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Royal Gifts. 



OUR youth should be educated iu a stricter rule from the first, 
for if education becomes lawless, and the youths themselves 
become lawless, they can never grow up into well conducted and 
meritorious citizens, and the education must begin with their 
plays. — Plato. 



Royal Gifts 



KIMDERGARTEN 



A MANUAL FOR SELF INSTRUCTION 



FRIEDEICn FRCEBEL'S PRINCIPLES OF EDUCATION. 



TOGETHER WITH A 



COLLECTION OF SONGS, GAMES, AND POEMS 



The Home, The Kindergarten and The Primary School. 

FRANCES POST VAN NORSTRAND, B. A. 

Author of ^'Blossoms by the Wayside," "Life's Ideal," "Sunshine," 
"Social Dynamite," Etc. 



ASSISTED BY 



S 



' ^ MRS. ALICE H. PUTNAM. 

C' I I SUPEBINTENDENT CHICAGO FRCEBEL ASSOCIATION. 



ELEGANTLY ILLUSTRATED. 



CHICAGO: 

STANDARD PUBLISHING COMPANY. 

Harrisburg, Pa.: Pennsylvania Publishing Co. i Dayton, 0.: Historical Publishing Co. 
Atchison, Kan.: L. A. Davis &, Co. I Oakland, Cal.: A. E. Whitney & Co. 

1S8Q. 




LBn77 



Copyrighted By 

F. P. VAN NORSTRAND. 

1888. 



TO ALL 

LOVERS OF CHILDREN, 

THIS VOLUME IS 

AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 

BY THE 

AUTHOR. 



THE right carrying out of this new idea of education will, more 
than anything else, help to conquer crude materialism, and 
to break the path for idealism to harmonize with the practical 
actuality, and bring the real and ideal life again into accord. — 
Friedrich Frosbel. 



PUBLISHERS' PREFACE. 




DEMAND for Kindergarten Education in our country lias greatly increased 
during the past decade. One of the chief reasons for this is the fact that a correct 
knowledge of the system, has never, until recently, been generally promulgated. The 
remarkable enthusiasm created by the few lecturers upon the subject, and the gi-eat 
success of Kindergarten schools founded on this system, has called forth a more general 
inquiry concerning its merits. It is proposed in this volume to present an outline of the 
Kindergarten plan, as invented and developed by Friederich Froebel, of Germany. It is 
conceded that no other system will so fully meet the requirements of the parent, teacher 
and child, when faithfully carried out in all of its important features. "Kindergarten 
culture," says the author of "Moral Culture of Infancy," is the adult mind entering 
into the child's world, and appreciating nature's intention, as displayed in every impulse 
of spontaneous life, so directing it that the joy of success may be ensured at every step, 
and artistic things be actually produced, which gives the self-reliance and conscious 
intelligence that ought to discriminate human power from blind force." 

This work is specially designed for mothers, nurses and Kindergartners, precise and 
full descriptions being given. Its minuteness, thoroughness, and clearness of direc- 
tion will, it is believed, make it the best manual for Kindergarten instruction published. 
It is just the work needed in the family, where the children are unable to attend a Kin- 
dergarten regularly. It teaches how to provide the children of three years and over 
with instructive, quiet amusement, how to quicken their intellect without wearying the 
brain; how to inculcate manual skill, artistic taste, a ready appreciation of results, and 
consequently a love of learning and application; the mind is ti'ained through apparent 
play and recreation, and the children prepared for school, and home instruction is ren- 
dered easy and entertaining without requiring constant attention. 

For gi'eater convenience the work has been aiTanged under appropriate subject 
headings or departments — such as "The Kindergarten," "The Nurseiy," "School Days," 
"Babyland," "Baby-Days and Baby-Plays," "Lessons of Life," "Animals," "Birds," 
"Trees," "Flowers," Nature's Voice," "Religion," and "Anniversai'ies." 

The "Kindergarten" Department contains explicit directions touching the introduc- 
tion and full instruction as to the use, of the several Gifts and Occupations of this ad- 
mirable system of education, presenting interesting explanatory exercises with each. 



publishers' preface. 



The Songs and Physical plays are an essential feature of the Kindergarten. The se- 
lections given in this volume, accompanied by Music, have been carefully made by Mrs. 
Alice H. Putnam, the Principal ami Superintendent of the Chicago Froebel Association. 
Her high social and intellectual position is a sufficient guarantee that her work has been 
■well and conscientiously done, and that she has presented the latest and best songs in 
use. The language will be found childlike, as well as good, the rhyme perfect, and the 
accent in word and in music harmonious. 

The "Nursery" department presents in rhyme, facts concerning real things and truth 
in melodies that Avill be readily fixed in the memory of the very youngest long before the 
school age. It will be found unique, full of i^ictorial illustrations,teaching in a simple way 
truths which every child should know, and will remember. Under "School Days" the 
various school studies are taught in pleasing rhyme, such as Arithmetic, Grammar, Geo- 
graphy, History, Astronomy, Geometry, Physiology and Hygiene. 

"Baby Lnnd" will be especially attractive to the mother and the delight of the "wee 
little ones," containing as it does a choice selection of the brightest and most chai'ming 
baby and cradle songs and lullabys in the English language. "Baby-Days and Baby- 
Plays" most pleasingly and studiously considers child-life in its interesting and various 
moods and phases with its diverging tastes. The child's versatile nature is administered 
to in his pastimes and in his mor ; thoughtful moments, that the cords of his tender 
and pure heai*t may find response, his little sorrows be soothed, his rejoicings 
entered into, his sympathies invited, and his willful outbreaks softened. 

In "Lessons of Life" and the several divisions following it, may be found the happiest 
thoughts and sweetest songs for childhood in the poetical realm of child literature. The 
vast field of poesy and current literature has been thoroughly searched, and only that 
which is pure, bright and fresh, admitted to these pages. The collection has been brought 
together with a special view to its refining and educating influences i:pon the child. 

Grateful thanks are due to the various publishers and owners of copyrights for their 
kind and generous courtesy in granting permission to use the same, and to the Milton 
Bradley Company, Springfield, Mass., for the use of the illustrations found on the pages 
of this work describing the "Gifts and Occupations" of the Kindergarten system. This 
firm carry the largest stock of Kindergarten supplies in the United States, and to them 
we most cordially refer all iu want of helps and material in their Kindergarten work. 



THE MOTHER AND THE KINDERGARTEN. 



U ZOOMING events cast tlieir shadows 

\j before," is an old saying, often 
proved true. 

Whoever looks into the horizon of 
events to-day, cannot fail to see the Kin- 
dergarten foreshadowed, wherever the lit- 
tle child is found. 

The world is not only growing more 
tender-hearted towards childliood, but 
wiser in methods of deahng with it. 
No royal road has led the world hither. 
It has been experience, dearly bought. 

The spu'it of the world has been much 
the spirit of those who said, "Take them 
away," when the mothers came with their 
children to the Master; and the rebuke 
given, " Except ye become as little chil- 
di'en, ye cannot enter the Kingdom of 
Heaven," has been long years in being 
interpreted and acted upon. The little 
child has been misunderstood, condemned, 
wrongfully trained ; the men and women 
over whom we son*ow are the results. 

The census-taker finds thousands of 
them in the prisons, almshouses and re- 
formatories. The State finds its shelter 
extended to the poor and unfortunate. 
State institutions mark so clearly and so 
strongly the extended work of the State. 
The auditor of accounts startles the tax- 
payer with the expenditure of money to 
these ends. Social Economics counts the 



horde of non-producers, and studies the 
causes. The Philanthropist studies the 
human heiiKj in the various institutions, 
also those in training for them. All unite 
in saying something is radically wrong. 

The tendency of the age to club organ- 
izations, etc., not only threatens the influ- 
ence of the home, but also proves that 
there is a social side to human nature, 
which must find expression somewhere. 
This social, co-operative spirit is felt to be 
the necessary basis upon which to secure 
the best results to society, and which 
ought to have been cultivated earlier in 
life, thus bringing about different results, 
and maintaining the family as the highest 
social club. 

How to help the poor ? How to care 
for the insane ? How to punish and re- 
form the criminal '? How to save young 
women ? How to rescue young men ? 
What to do with the increasing numbers 
of worse than motherless childi-en ? How 
to prevent the 8,000,000 children, 
too young for the public school, from 
picking up in the street the education of 
the saloon ? How to claim the new gen- 
eration for pm-ity and righteousness ? 
These are questions set all along the line of 
duties; by far the best part of the strength 
of the world is occupied with questions 
like these ; from the Statesman to the Ee- 



THE MOTHER AND THE KINDERGARTEN. 



former they are tossed back and forth. 
The wise Creator, who has ever stored 
sni)phes for the reciu'riug needs of man, 
and who never lacks a discoverer to bring 
the hidden treasm-es forth, has given to us 
a Friech-ich Froebel, who brings the Ivin- 
dergarten for every child, and the world, 
which has quite generally concluded "pre- 
vention is better than cure," turns to the 
child more reverently, and apologizing for 
the past, promises to do better in the 
future. 

The teachings of Christ, the wisdom of 
Socrates, Plato, Kousseau, Pestalozzi and 
Froebel, concerning the value of the little 
child, and the importance of bojmnirKi the 
education, are being considered as worthy 
of acceptance. Shakespeare's homely 
words, "As the twig is bent the tree is 
inclined," holds a lesson on the nature of 
the child. We read, as the child is bent, 
the man's inclined, and we are forced to 
admit man has received the wrong bent 
too often in childhood. 

But the mothers, as they gather the lit- 
tle ones in their anns to-day, can sing a 
lullaby of thanksgiving that thnj and all 
the world may know of this new gospel 
for the child. The Kindergarten is here, — 
it has come to stay ; blessed are the little 
ones that have already entered into its 
Paradise! Women of great foresight, 
with warm and tender hearts, like Miss 
Peabody of Boston, the first apostle in 
America, and later Mrs. Horace Mann, her 
sister, together with Mrs. Shaw, daughter 
of Professor Agassiz, have tenderly and 
wisely watched over tlie Kindergarten, as 
it has multiplied and grown in the city of 



Boston. The genius and tact of these 
women, and the abundant means of Mrs. 
Shaw, have given to Boston one of the 
best examples of the Kindergarten. 

So strongly does the work appeal to 
the School Board of Boston, that the Su- 
perintendent of the Board of Education 
has recommended the adojjtion of the 
Kindergartens. The sentiment is begin- 
ing to prevail that the education which 
deals with the hcginnbujot life should not 
be a charity, any more than that which 
begms later on. Also it is seen that the 
child gains time in education, that its play- 
time can be utilized for healthful training, 
that the earliest years are the best for cul- 
tivating preception, and for leading out 
all the faculties and senses. 

The Kindergarten is establishing its 
claim to develop the three -fold natm-e of 
the child harmoniously — to be a close 
student of the laws governing the gi'owth 
and development of the child, ever en- 
deavoring to meet its requirements. 
Through the childish plays, it teaches the 
child to take posession of itself, and of its 
world, and lays the foundation of indus- 
trial traininij, also prei)ares children bet- 
ter than they have ever been for the j)ri- 
maiy school. Answers to questions on 
this last point from the Boston teachers 
were given in the affirmative, 7 to 1. 
Miss Blow, in her Kindergarten work in 
St. Louis a few years ago, solved the 
same question, and St. Louis has sixty- 
five Ivindergartens as sub-primary to the 
public school. In 1887, the free Kinder- 
gartens of Philadelphia were adopted by 
the Public Schools, and the course was 



THE MOTHER AND THE KINDERGARTEN. 



XI. 



added to the Normal School course, to be 
optional with pupils. This is also done 
in Chicago, in Cook Comity Normal 
School, in New York City, and in several 
others throughout the country. 

The University of the Pacific, at San 
Jose, California, has a chair of "Psychol- 
ogy of Childhood," and a practical Kin- 
dergarten training class, with a Kinder- 
garten for practice and observation. San 
Francisco Free Kindergarten is the most 
popular educational enterprise on. the 
coast; its numeroiTS wealthy patrons, 
among whom are Mrs. Leland Stanford, 
Mrs. Charles Crocker, Mrs. George Hearst, 
Mrs. Charles Lux, are devoted to the in- 
terest of the work. Under the able su- 
pervision of Mrs. Sarah 13. Cooper, whose 
Bible Class supports eight Free Kinder- 
gartens, the work thrives marvelously, and 
has so recommended itself to the Board 
of Education, that the teachers in the 
public schools are required to take a cer- 
tain number of weekly lessons at a Kin- 
dergarten training class, and to use the 
same in their j)rimaiy work. 

The Kindergartens are still a private 
charity, but their influence is a public 
benefit, felt and appreciated especially in 
the public schools. No city in the Union 
has made such rapid strides in this work 
among the little children, as San Fran- 
cisco. Miss Peabody says, "I think the 
report of the Golden Gate Kindergarten 
Association should be in the hands of 
every school committee man in the United 
States." 

Mrs. Stanford has made a study of the 
Kindergarten in connection with the gi-eat 



plans contemplated by the Leland Stan- 
ford, Jr., University. Of the Kindergar- 
ten, Governor Stanford said "he believed 
the surest foundation ui^on which any 
educational structure can rest, was the 
rock of thorough Kindergarten training, 
begun at the earliest possible age. At the 
age when moral and industrious habits 
are most easily formed, the taste improved, 
and the finer feelings, which give fiber to 
the will, are cultivated." 

On the bed rock of such training the 
Stanford University is outlined to be "A 
university embracing the science of human 
life, in its varied industries, arts, sciences, 
literature, government, political economy, 
ethics, moral unfoldment, hygiene, and in 
fact all that goes to make up a perfected 
human life, a university where the school 
and the workshop clasp hands, where the 
body and mind are educated together, 
where the mechanic and the classical stu- 
dent will strike hands together, where the 
artist and the artisan wil eat at one com- 
mon board." This is the influence of the 
Kindergarten expressing itself in Califor- 
nia. New York City has also entered into 
the spirit of the age. Grace L. Dodge, 
daugliter of William E. Dodge, the nota- 
ble philanthropist, is a member of the 
New York City Board of Education. 

She, with three others, set about organ- 
izing a plan for technical training. Mr. 
Joseph Seligman, a member of the com- 
mittee, who not long ago gave $10,000 to 
the Kindergarten work of the city, has 
been watching its beneficial outcome with 
much interest. This fact, together with 
Miss Dodge's previous interest in the In- 



XII. 



THE MOTHER AND THE KINDERGARTEN. 



dustrial Institution atG. University place, 
led the endeavor to establish the Kinder- 
garten as an integral paii; of the public 
school work. The city has made an ap- 
propriation, and the work has already 
begun. It includes carpentry and joineiy 
in the five higher grades of the Boys' 
Grammar School, cookery in the second 
and thu-d grades of the Girls' Schools, and 
sewing from the eighth to the foiu-th 
grade. Also, modeling, drawing fi-om 
models, paper cutting. A teachers' man- 
ual is put into the hands of the teacher 
from whom the training is required ; with 
this and the teacher's class at the Indus- 
trial Association on Saturday mornings, 
the teachers do the best they can. Spe- 
cial teachers are allowed in cookery, sew- 
ing, and in the boy's workshop. 

The Kindergarten as a sub-primary, is 
not yet imdertaken. But this work in the 
public schools is on the Kindergarten 
plan and derived from it. A pleasant 
conversation with Miss Dodge, and a 
course of lessons and lectures at the In- 
dustiial Association, and a visit to several 
of the schools, convince us that the Kin- 
dergarten is abroad in New York, in the 
educational work outside of the Ivinder- 
garten. The excellent work done by the 
Free Kindergarten is solving the question 
of the Kindergarten as sub-primary u-ork 
everywhere. 

Prof. Hailman, in La Porte, Indiana, is 
doing most excellent work for the cause. 
His new book, entitled " Primary Meth- 
ods," is the outgrowth of practical work 
done under his supervisiou, and will be 
very useful to primary teachers. Prof. 



Parker is also testing and trying the new 
education in the Normal School jiist out 
of Chicago. The Chicago Free Kinder- 
gartens are doing a great and influential 
work. The standard of the work is 
high, and the methods such as recom- 
mend themselves to those interested in 
the best work. 

Already is public attention given to 
the Kindergarten in the public school. 
Chicago is not wont to follow far behind, 
and there is every reason to believe it 
will not in this work. 

Thus in every section of the country 
the Kindergarten is establishing itself. 
One of the necessary points for Ameri- 
cans to guard, is haste for results, and 
carelessness in beginning. The chief ob- 
stacle which hinders the universal adop- 
tion of the Kindergarten is, that all the 
work has not been the best, -hence the 
necessity for information among the 
people generally. Unless the very best 
Kindergarten work is done, the education 
of the children is hindered; a poor Kin- 
dergarten has often been a stumbling 
block. Great care is necessary in the 
selection of students for training as Kin- 
dergartners. Every day the standard is 
rising. Talent, tact, character, love for 
children, patience, sweetness, jjersever- 
ance, a religious nature, and I would add 
temperance principles, must be found in 
the coming Kindergartner. Those spe- 
cially interested in having temj)erance an 
organic part of every Kindergarten, 
would do well to interest young ladies 
possessing all the qualifications for suc- 
cess, including temperance, to study the 



THE MOTHER AND THE KINDERGARTEN. 



XKI. 



system. Every one who wishes to be 
intelhgent ou the work that is being 
done, the work which may be done for 
the httle child, ought to read the Kin- 
dergarten literature; and every commu- 
nity which desires to do its best for the 
children, shoidd become familiar with the 
methods of the Kindergarten. 

State Legislation is the next step, and 
one possible to be taken as soon as the 
Kindergarten is well known, and its bear- 
ings on industrial life, on crime, pauj)er- 
ism, insanity, intemperance and upon 
all qiiestions of social economics, is un- 
derstood, this step will be taken. 

But best of all, this work recognizes 
the genius of the woman in education. 
It recoiinizes the ivork of the mother in the 
home. For the Kindergarten is only a 
model home, transplanted and given in 
charge of a person who assumes a 
mother's relation as far as possible. 
Every intelligent mother is bound to 
have the best education the times afPord 
her, in her duties toward the child, just 
as much as the State is bound to edu- 
cate the child. The mothers who longer 
neglect to accept the knowledge which 
knocks at their very doors, are inexcusa- 
ble; no other duties afford a valid excuse 
for this neglect. The question is, "Will 
women rise to the occasion? " 

I have outlined the present condition 
of the Kindergarten in the country, have 
endeavored to show that it is coming 
rapidly into the pubhc school work, that 
it is the best education for the little 
child; now, what ought the attitude of 



every intelligent woman to be? Shall 
the training of the babies also pass out of 
the mother's hands, and she be ignorant 
of what they are taught as she may be of 
Latin and Greek? or rather shall she 
come forward, and with ready tact inform 
herself i;pou this system, have a voice in 
its adoption, and take her child by the 
hand and stand side by side with the 
Kindergartuers, who are ready to assist 
her. I think the mothers can and may 
claim the education of the babies, there- 
fore study the lundergarten, make public 
sentiment for it among the mothers and 
young women who will become the Kin- 
dergartuers. Interest every mother to 
use its methods in her home, to talk it to 
her neighbor. It is time the mothers 
and all women were aroused to the neces- 
sity for action. 

The Kindergarten will claim your child 
in time ; would you not like to know what 
that is like which proposes to come into 
the mother's kingdom and demand her 
babies? Seek to know of its doctrines, 
and you wiU be convinced that it is none 
too soon to awaken. You will be re- 
warded in the delight you will exj^er- 
ience, when you realize what the Kin- 
dergarten proposes to do for the child. 
Let us work to make a sentiment that 
shall hinder the children from becoming 
criminals, by turning their wills into new 
channels that shall take away abnormal 
tastes. 

Work, work, work, until we have the 
Kindergarten for every child! 



THE object of all ambition should be to be happy at home. If 
we are not happy there, we certainly cannot be happy else- 
where. It is the best proof of the virtues of a family circle, to 
see a happy fireside. 



CONTENTS. 



A BOY'S Birthdays 320 

A. E. I. O. U 208 

All Aboard for Sliut-eye-tovra 251 

All Alone 249 

All Have Work to Do 381 

AllisNot Gold 211 

All Things Beautiful 472 

Alphabet, The 157,159, 206 

Alphabet, The Temperance 166 

Alphabet of Maxims 167 

America 200 

Amusement 299 

Animals 411 

Annie 271 

Answer to a Child's Question 408 

Another Little Wave 220 

Anot her Year is Davvnintc 520 

ApplePie, Story of an 158 

Apple Tree, The 383 

Apple Tree, The Old 475 

April Joke, An 334 

Arab's Farewell to His Horse, The 449 

Arithmetic 197 

Arithmetic, Lessons in 195 

Arithmetic, Sum in 197 

Arthur's Talk 190 

A Story 340 

A Story for a Child 347 

At School 172 

AtSet of Sun 372 

At the Pump 336 

Autumn 504 

Axis, The 199 

BABY Bell 238 

Baby Boy's Toys 261 

Baby Brother 225 

Baby Clara 245 

Baby's Complaint 235 

Baby's Dancing 268 

Baby's Day 255 

Baby-Dats and Baby-Plats 253 

Baby Finsers 242 

Baby is Going to By-lo-town 234 

Baby Land 217-219 

Baby Louise 24 8 

Baby May 241 

Baby Naughty 252 

Baby Ned 262 



Baby's Reverie 226 

Baby's Shoes 306 

Baby's Skies 249 

Baby, The . , 226-250 

Ballad of the Tempest 335 

Band of Mercy i4g 

B arcarole 128 

Be Active 284 

Be a Hero _ 403 

Bear, The Grizzly 444 

Beautiful Things 336 

Beckon to the Chickens 86 

Beckon to the Pigeons gy 

Be Careful What You Say 335 

Bedlam Town 310 

Bees, The 101 

Beggar-Boy, The 3 is 

Beggar-Girl, The 349 

Beggar-Man, The 352 

Beginning of Vice 333 

Be Glad and Thankful 375 

Be Kind 363 

Benny 507 

Be Polite 373 

Be True Boys 33,^ 

Bird and Its Mother, The 270 

Bird and the Maid 417 

Birds Among the Greenwood 103 

Bird Song 143-154 

Bird's Eye View, A 423 

Bird's Nests 1 37-427 

Birds of Passage 92 

Bit of Pottery 328 

Blacklnrd, The 41 g 

Blind Boy, The 357-358 

Blind Man's Buff 284 

Blocks, My 188 

Blue Bell, The 486 

Bones, Lesson on 2O8 

Bonnie Milk Cow, The 452 

Boston Tea Party 2OI 

Boy'sSong 518 

Boy's Troubles, The 209 

Boys Wanted 310 

Boy Who Told a Lie, The 382 

BravcOld Oak, The 474 

Bright New Cent, The 354 

Brook, Song of 513 

Brook, The 514 



XVI 



CONTENTS. 



BuildlnK Castles 1 80 

Busy little Husbandman 393 

Buttercups and Daisies 484 

Butterflies, The 435 



CAMEL, The 
Cardinal Points, The 

Charles and his Father 

Chatterbox, The 

Cherry Blossoms 

Cherries are Ripe 

Chickadees, The Little 

Chickens, The •■ 

Child Judge, The 

Children of the Week 

Children's Bedtime, The 

Children's Easter 

Children's Hour, The 

Child's Centennial 

Child's Evening Prayer 

Child's Morning Prayer 

Child's Song in Spring 

Child's Thought of God, A 

Choice of Occupations... 

Choosing a Kitten 

Choosing a Name 

Christmas Eve 

Christmas Song 122 

Circle, The 

Clock, The 

Clocking Hen, The 

Cobweb Made to Order, The 

Come Here Little Robin 

Comfort 

Complaints of the Poor, The 

Couldn't You Mamma? 

Counting - 

Counting Baby's Toes 

Cowboy's Song, The 

Cradle Sung 104, 222 

Crow's Children, The 

Cruel Fun 



445 
198 
516 
380 
476 
476 
173 
433 
349 
181 
314 
533 
280 
204 
523 
522 
497 
525 
396 
460 
221 
527 
141 
102 
180 
432 
438 
414 
385 
353 
288 
179 
250 
453 
,232 
428 
344 



DAISIES, The Song of the 149 

Daisy Fair l''>3 

Dandelion, The Little 486 

Dare ^"^ 

Dare to Say No 331 

Darling Little Girl, The 348 

Daybreak 492 

Days of the Month 182 

Daysof the Week 181 

Dead Doll, The 266 

Decoration Day 532 

Diary, A Mother's 244 

Doctor's Visit, The 262 

Dog of St. Bernards 460 



Do It Now 329 

Doll-Baby Show 265 

Doll-House Troubles 264 

Don't 390 

Don't Be Content to Rust 393 

Don't Wake the Baby 285 

Doves, The 432 

Dumpling and Speckle 418 

Dunce's Bench, The - 214 

Dutton, Mollie 176 

Dying Stag, The 447 

EAGLE, The 412 

Early at School 194 

Easter Lilies, A Cluster of 530 

Eighth Gift, The 50 

Eighteenth Gift, The 70 

Elephant and Child, The 446 

Eleventh Gift, Tlie 58 

Empty Nest, The 420 

Equal Measure 101 

Equal Treading 115 

Evening Prayer, The 118 

Evening Star, The 133 

Eyes of the Angels, The 521 

FACTS for Little Folks '^ 1 83 

Fair, Snow White 126 

Falling, Falling 90 

Farewell, A 404 

Farewell to Winter 104 

Farm Yard Song 394 

FatheratPlay 258 

Fifth Gift, The 42 

Fifteenth Gift, The 66 

First Birthday, The 534 

First Gift, The 28 

First Lessons in Whistling 271 

Firstof Itskind, The 308 

FirstPairof Breeches 304 

First Pair of Rubber Boots 304 

First Pocket, The 303 

First Thanksgiving Day, The 529 

Fishes in the Brook 86-95 

Five Pigs, The 307 

Flower, Tlie 487 

Flowers 112, 480 

Fly, The 436 

Fortune, The 279 

Four Seasons, The 496 

Fourth Gift, The 39 

Fourteenth Gift, The 64 

From a Man to a Jug 144 

Frog,All About a 183 

Frost, The 507 

Funny Isn't It? 206 

Funny Uncle Phil 332 



CONTENTS. 



XVII 



GAMBOLSof Children 312 

Game at Marbles 282 

Gender 206 

Geography 198 

Get up Early 330 

Gitt, the First 28 

The Second 31 

The Third 34 

The Fourth 39 

TheFifth 42 

The Sixth 44 

The Seventh 47 

The Eighth 50 

The Ninth 54 

The Tenth . - - 56 

The Eleventh 58 

The Twelfth 60 

The Thirteenth 60 

The Fourteenth 64 

The Fifteenth 66 

TheSixteenth 66 

The Seventeenth 68 

-The Eighteenth 70 

The Nineteenth 72 

■ The Twentieth 76 

Gifts and Occupations, The 25 

Gifts Designated by Froebel, The 27 

Going into Breeches 302 

Golden Hair, Little 272 

Good Company 214 

Good tor Evil 346 

Good Name, A 320 

Good Night 497-524 

Good Night Prayer, A 524 

Grandfather's Chair 344 

Grandma's Umbrella 184 

Gran'ma Al'us Does 291 

Grandmothers 343 

Grandmother's Farm 395 

Grandpa's Pet 277 

Grandpa's Spectacles 286-289 

Grasshopper and the Ant, The 439 

Grass Mowing 88 

Great Brown Owl, The 429 

HAIL'? What Makes the 211 

Half-past Eight 193 

Hanging the Stockings 528 

Hare, The Little 447 

Harvest Hymn 502 

Harvest Song 502 

Here Sits the Lord Mayor 305 

Hide and Seek 282 

His Wish 324 

Horse, The Blood 451 

How Do They Grow? 390 

How Narcissus' Neck Was Bent 148 



How's My Boy? 403 

How Spring Made Her Flowers, 477 

How we can Make Ourselves Fair 345 

Hush-A-By-Baby 236 

TCANandl Can't 320 

-L Idle Annie 375 

Idle Joe 213 

If I Could Keep Her So 246 

If Wishes were Horses 121 

I Had a Little Doggie 106 

I Like Little Pussy 464 

I Love Little Pussy Ill 

I Meant to 364 

Indian Summer 503 

In the Orchard 475 

In the Swing 274 

Is the Moon Made of Green Cheese? 511 

TEANETTE and Jo 346 

^ Jennie and Bennie 268 

Jesus Sees You . . , 521 

Joys Shared 338 

Just as Fat 249 

KATIE'S WayofWorking 373 

Keys 351 

Kindergarten Songs 81 

Kindergarten, The 25 

Kindergarten, The Mother and the. ix 

Kindergarten Girl, The Little 184 

King of the Nursery, The 226 

Knitting Socks 184 

Knowledge 171 

LAMB, The 450 

Language of Birds, The 409 

Lazy Boy, The 213 

Learning the Letters 169 

Learning to Sew 186 

Learning to Write 190 

Learn Your Lessons 377 

Leedle Yacob Strauss 274 

Lengthwise, Crosswise, etc 86 

Lesson in Arithmetic 19."i 

LessonB of Life 317 

Let's Play 152 

Let us have a Drill To-Day 110 

Let us With Gladsome Mind 94 

Letting the Old Cat Die 275 

Lion, The 443 

Little Acts of Kindness 338 

Little Bird, The Little Maiden and the 416 

Little Boy and theSlieep ..„ 455 

Little Boy's Troubles, A 209 

Little Builder, A 325 

Little Chickadee's, The 173 

Little Children Love One Another 294 

Little Child's Fancies, A 479 



XVIII 



CONTENTS. 



Little Dandelion, The 48<i 

Little Dora"s Soliloquy 243 

Little Drummer, The 401 

Little Fingers 305 

Little Games 283 

Little Girl's Letter, A 206 

Little Goo-Goo 237 

LittleGoose, A 279 

Little Hop-O'-My-Thumb 440 

Little Jim 313 

Little Kindergarten Girl, The 184 

Little Maiden and the Little Bird, The 416 

Little Marian's Pilgrimage 365 

Little Missionary 376 

Little Moments 326 

Little Raindrops 300 

Little Robin Redbreasts 414 

Little ■ Rogue 288 

Little Things 325, 364 

Little White Lily 487 

Looking Ahead 150 

Love Your Enemies 391 

Lullaby 131, 241 

Lulu's Complaint 228 

MAGPIE'S Lessons, The 407 

Maidenhood 322 

Make Your Mark 373 

Making Mud Pies 292 

Mamma Can't Find Me 309 

Mamma's Kisses 250 

Marching Sonir 147 

Marching Song, Music 98 

May Song, The Child's 501 

Merry Band, The 285 

Milk Maid, The 379 

Mill by the Rivulet, The 120 

Mill Race, The 105 

Mollis Dutton 176 

Moon, Oh! Look'at the 513 

Moon. Is the Moon Made of Green Cheese?. 511 

Motherless Turkeys, The 434 

Months, The 181, 182 

Morning 100, 493 

Morning Bright, The 94 

IMorning Hymn 144 

Morning Prayer 93 

MorningRide, The 287 

Mother Knows 362 

Mother's Eyes 249 

Mother Singing, A 263 

Mother's Kisses 251 

Mountain and the Squirrel, The 448 

Music 85, 140 

Music Lesson, The 363 

My Ball is VerySoft 120 

My Blocks 188 



My Good for Nothing 263 

My Little Sister 256 

My Pussy 466 

NAMINGThe Baby 221 

Nature's Diamonds 506 

Nature's Voice 489, 491 

Naughty Cat, The 463 

Naughty Little Girl, The 309 

Never Out of Sight 324 

Never Put Off 329 

New Dresses 482 

NewMoon, The 298 

New Years' Coming 526 

Night 494 

Nineteen Birds 136 

Nineteenth Gift, The 72 

NinthGift, The 54 

No 504 

No Baby in the House 225 

Noontide - 494 

Nothing to Do 295 

Now the Day is Over 110 

Now the Light Has Gone Away 110 

Now the Sun is Sinking 512 

Now the Time Has Come for Play 114 

Number 206 

Nursery Song 108, 453 

NuKSEKT, The 155 

OAK, The Brave Old 474 

Ocean, The 509 

O, Eyes That Open 102 

Of What Are Your Clothes Made? 212 

Oh, Birdie Dear 85 

Oh. Lookatthe Moon 513 

Old and New 216 

Old Apple Tree, The 475 

Old Gaelic Lullaby 222 

Old Oak, The Brave 474 

Old Watch to the Moon 458 

Old Winter Come Again 505 

Old Winter is Coming 504 

One of His Names 260 

One Little Chicken 207 

One, Two, Three 171 

Only a Baby Small 220 

Opening Song for School 141 

Orphan Boy, The 356 

Orphan Girl, The 355 

Our Darling 219 

Our Real Ruler 238 

Ours 243 

Over the Hill 359 

PANSY, Pretty Polly 481 

Parts of Speech, The 205 

Patient Joe 378 



CONTEXTS. 



XIX 



Patter of Little Feet. The 3H 

Peace of Niglit 1 32 

Perseverance 32fi, 374 

Pet of the Householcl, The . . . . 310 

Philip my King 233 

Physical Plays, The 82 

Picture, A 297 

Planets, The 1 09 

Playing Bo-peep "With the Star 301 

Playing King 268 

Playing Together 100 

Play Time 257 

Play With the Limbs 91 

Plum Cake 387,388 

Poor Dolly 315 

Poor Little Jim 354 

Prayer, A Child's Evening 523 

Prayer for a Young Child, Evening 523 

Prayer of a Little Child 522 

Prayer, The Unfinished 523 

Pray, Never Forget to 522 

Presidents of the United States 200 

Pretty is That Pretty Does 3(!0 

Pretty Sheep 455 

Pride of Battery "B," The 397 

Proper Time, The 257 

Prop-jsal, The 290 

Pussier 14S 

Puss in the Clock 290 

Puss Punished 464 

Pussy's Class 461 

QUARRELSOME Kittens, The 467 

Queer Little Stitches 185 

RABBIT on the "Wall 295 

Railway Train, The 149 

Rain and Snow 143 

Rainbow and its Emblems, The 145 

Rxinljovv, The 506 

Rain? What Makes the 211 

Rain, Wind and Snow, The 505 

Rataplan 124 

Religion and Anniversaries 519 

Remember 207 

Reminding the Hen 435 

Rest, My Baby, Rest 232 

Rich Little Dolly, The 264 

Rippling, Purling, Little River 11(5 

River, The 517 

Robertof Lincoln 430 

Robin's Song, The 415 

Rural Nature 492 

SAILING To-night 392 

Sailor Boy and His Mother, The 359 

Sailor Boy's Dream, The 399 



School Days i9i 

School, The 215 

School Time 169,193 

Sea, The 510 

Season's Charms, The 496 

Second Gift, The 31 

See-Saw 287 

See the Windmill 105 

Seventh Gift, The 47 

Seventeenth Gift, The 68 

Seven Times One 297 

Shadow, The 377 

Shadows, The 299 

Sing A, B. C, 168 

Singing Lesson, The 411 

Sisters at Work, The 331 

SixthGift, The 44 

Sixteenth Gift, The 66 

Skipping 307 

Sleep Baby Mine 230 

Sleepy Little Sister, The 278' 

Slice of the New Moon, A 300 

Snapthe Whip 2S5 

Snow Birds Song, The 431 

Snowfall, The 507 

Snow-white 126 

Snow, What Makes the 211 

Soldier's Dream, The 400 

Solo forLittle Girls 145 

Some Bible B's 525 

Song of the Bee. The 438 

Song of the Daisies, The 149 

Song for Merry Harvest 502 

Songfor School 142 

Songs and Physical Plays 79 

Sorrows Shared... 339 

Sow, Sew and So 187 

Sparrows Nest, The 426 

Speak the Truth 392 

Spelling Lesson., The 170 

Spring 499 

Spring and the Flowers 498 

Spring Voices 499 

S(iuirrel, The 448, 451 

Step by Step 189 

Stop, Stop, Pretty Water 511 

Styrian Song 138 

Summer 498 

SummerCall, A 500 

Summer Moods 500 

Summer's Nigh 498 

Sunset 494 

Sunshineand Showers 326 

Suppose '^"l 

Sweet and Low 231 

Swing, Swing, Swing 151 



XX 



CONTENTS. 



TEDDYS Choice 339 

Temperance Alphabet 166 

Ten Commandments, The 525 

Ten True Friends 303 

TenLittle Toes 307 

TenthGift, The 56 

Thanksgivina; Day 529 

Thank You Pretty Cow 452 

The Dear OldDays 361 

Tlie Languatre of Birds 409 

The Miller of Dee 378 

The Kichest Prince 387 

TheSeasons 142 

The Stolen Top 383 

The Trades-Birds 408 

They Say! 389 

ThirdGift. The 34 

Thirteenth Gift, The 60 

This Dog of Mine 458 

This is the Way the Snow Comes Down 108 

Three Little Kittens 466 

Thrush, The 413 

Tiger, The 444 

Time 179 

Time Table, A New 179 

Tired Mothers 337 

'Tis Night on the Mountain 236 

'Tis The Last Rose of Summer 488 

TotheLady Bird 422 

Trees and Flowers . . 469 

Tree, The 472 

Tripple Pledge, The 389 

True Love 287 

Trust Your Mother 342 

Truth 370 

TwelfthGift, The 58 

Twelve Little Schoolmates 211 

Twentieth Gift, The 76 

Twenty Frogs at School 467 

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star 134, 303 

Two 308 

Two Friends, The 456 

Two Little Girls - 329 

Two Pictures 392 



UNDER the leaves 492 

Unfinished Prayer, The 523 

Up Yonder Mountain 130 

Up and Down 283 

Use of Flowers, The 480 

VERY good girl, A 310 

Violet, The 128, 486 

Voyage in the Arm Chair 260 

WASP and the Bee, The 439 

Waves of the Sea Shore, The 511 

We Birds are Happy 115 

Weighing the Baby 224 

We've Got a Baby 229 

What! 293 

What are They Doing? 421 

What God Sees ,.. 521 

What is That Mother? 413 

What Makes Me Happiest 362 

WhatsoSweet? 501 

What the Choir Sang 386 

What the Sparrow Chirps 425 

What Willie Said 216 

When School is out 141 

When the Morning Sun is Bright 114 

Where Do All the Daisies Go? 108 

Where Do the Wrinkles Come From? 391 

Which is Your Lot? 332 

WhichLoved Best? 330 

Who Has the Whitest Lambkins? 97 

Who Stole the Bird's Nest? 423 

Why Birdie Builds High 419 

Why Men Were Born 212 

Willie and the Apple - 383 

Wind, The 210 

Wind-mill, The 105 

Winter Song 304 

Winnie 220 

Wishing 313 

Woodman Spare that Tree 472 

Work While You Work 326 

World, The 471 



The Kindergarten. 



IT is a tender thing to be a sculptor and to chisel marble into 
beautiful shapes and forms, but it is sweeter to mold in the 
clay of a child's character. — Fra7ices E. IVillard. 



THE KINDERaARTEN. 



GIFTS AND OCCUPATIOMS. 




HE fundamental idea of Froebel was to render the first schooling 
of the child attractive, to connect learning with pleasure, and 
to make mental food as much conducive to mental growth as 
bodily food is to bodily growth. The first condition thereto 
y^P\ was, of course, association of children with children. The 
second condition was that the place of assembly should be attractive, 
inspiring and congenial to child-like instincts, " a little garden, and ad- 
joining a large room, lofty, airy, adorned with greens, flowers, and, if 
possible, a fountain, nice pictures, etc." The third and most indispensable 
condition is an effective lady Kindergartener who has studied the science and 
art formulated by Froebel. She should possess a habit of reflection, some 
energy, a cheerful, conscientious character, a true love for children, and a 
good common school education with some practical experience and theoretical 
knowledge in this branch of education ; a tolerable voice, pure and strong, and 
some musical training. The fourth and last condition to successful Kinder- 
gartens are good toys, playthings and games, presented in a serial order. 

The child feels true attachment to the being by whom he is nursed, whether 
she })e distinguished by the name of mother or nurse. These feelings can not 
be transferred to another who occupies a secondary relationship, and no amount 
of worldly adornment or gifts can have the power to establish that union 
which must spring from within ; so, also, a child will always remember with 
deep interest those who have joined in his childish games, told him simple 



26 THE KINDERGARTEN. 



stories, held communion with his soul ; while he will forget, or treat with 
indifference, those who have expended their last cent to supply him with the 
means of external gratification. To establish this close attachment we must 
commence early, while he feels himself in union with external objects, before 
he comprehends the idea of separation and distance. To accomplish this 
work successfully, an appropriate place is needed, where, free from the excite- 
ment of artificial life, secure from danger and surrounded by beings for whom 
the child has an affinity, he can exercise his bodily and mental faculties 
without undue restraint. 

A lesson w'orthy of imitation may be learned in our dealings with children 
by observing with what care a well kept garden is tended, how every plant is 
supplied with the proper amount of temperature, air, light, soil and moisture, 
and every effort is made to call forth the native beauty of the plants. If we 
think of how much greater worth is a human being than a plant, we will be 
inclined to ask — what can be done to provide a garden in which humanity 
may bloom and put forth all the excellence of which it is capable "? The 
object of the Kindergarten is to accomplish this and is designed to aid in 
securing the desirable union between the mother and the child — between God 
and the world. 

Froebel, in his admirable system of education, has designated all occupa- 
tions in the Kindergarten as i)laijs, and the materials used in such 
occupations as //(/is. He starts from the idea that all education should 
begin with the development of the "desire for activity in the child." 
Beginning with the simplest features, each step forward is but a logical 
sequence of the one preceding — concluding with the most difficult hi all the 
varieties of occupation — as a whole satisfying all the natural demands of a 
child, both in mental and i)hysical culture, and laying the surest foundation 
for all subsequent education in school or in life. The peculiarity of the 
Kindergarten is that the gifts, occupations and plays are always to be turned 
to a useful account, slumbering faculties are to be awakened, drowsy inclinations 
to be enlivened, attention and reflection to be cultivated, and good habits to 



GIFTS AND OCCUPATIONS. 



27 



be fostered in the pupil. In this there is no end of learning, no acme of 
jDerfection. The best of talent can not accomplish too much, while a conscien- 
tious and hearty energy will go a great way toward the aim. The means 
furnished to this end consist in object lessons, mental and physical gym- 
nastics, the charms of poetry and music, and interesting and entertaining 
conversation. 

The great varieties of plays invented Ijy Frcebel, with building blocks, 

colored papers, sticks, 
wires, soaked peas, wor- 
sted stitching, weaving of 
strips, etc., tend to de- 
velop the sense of form 
and proportion to such 
a degree that the invent- 
ive faculty is impercept- 
ibly developed so that 
the children may soon 
draw on slates or model 
in some jjliable substance 
a great variety of objects. 
There are twenty Gifts according to Froebel's general definition of the 

term, although the first six only, are usually designated by this name. These 

Gifts are : — 




1. Six Rubber Balls, covered with a net- 

work of Twine or Worsted of various 
colors. 

2. Sphere, Cu])e and Cvliuder, made of 

Wood. 

3. Large Cube, cousistiug of eight Small 

Cubes. 

4. Large Cube, consisting of eight Oblong 

Parts. 
6. Large Cube, consisting of Whole, Half, 
and Quarter Cubes. 



6. Large Cube, consisting of Doubly Di- 

vided Oblongs. 

(The last four Gifts serve for buildiriK purposes.) 

7. Square and Triangidar Tablets for 

Laying of Figures. 

8. Stall's for Laying of Figm-es. 

9. Whole and Half Rings for Laying of 

Figures. 
10. Material for Drawing. 
IL Material for Pertoratincr. 



28 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



12. Material for Embroidering. 

13. Material for Cutting of Paper and 

Combining Pieces. 

14. Material for Braiding. 

15. Slats for Interlacing. 



IG. The Slat with Many Links. 

17. Material for Intertwining. 

18. Material for Paper Folding. 

19. Material for Peas Work. 

20. Material for Modeling. 



Parents and teachers should endeavor to take a comprehensive view of 
the whole being of the child, and adopt such means as will develop all his 
faculties harmoniously. To do this it is necessary to employ occupations 
and amusements capable of being used as means of education. Two points 
should be especially considered ; the nature of the child, the state of 
development, and the relation in which the plaything stands to the child 
as regards both quality and quantity. 

He quickly observes surrounding objects and retains the impression of 
them. He soon learns to distinguish the eye of his mother, and the cap and 
cloak in which he is clothed when taken into the open air, from others, though 
similar in appearance. So in regard to playthings, he will like such as are 
best calculated to call forth his slumbering faculties and enlarge the limits of 
his mind. For this purpose, the soft ball is the most convenient and best 
adapted for the first gift. 

TThei Kirso? Gik^. 

The First Gift consists of a set of six worsted 

balls, of the rainbow or standard Kindergarten colors, 

with strings. These represent the three fundamental 

and three mixed colors. The aim by them is : 

1. To teach color — primary red, blue, yellow; and 

secondary, or mixed — purple, green, and orange. 2. To 

teach direction ; forward and backward, right and left, 

up and down. 3. To train the eye. 4. To exercise 

the hands, arms and feet in various plays. The first and second Gifts 

are adapted to children on the mother's lap, and small classes of very 

small children only. This Gift is chosen: 1. Because it is the simplest 





29 



Mfvuis gcTzc. TJxereicus. Icatc^vO. 



PLATE I.— THE FIRST GIFT. 



30 



GIFTS AND OCCUPATIONS. 




shape and the one from which ah others may subsequent!}- he derived. 

2. Because it is the most mobile of inanimate 
shapes ; its elasticity too, brings it nearer to life, 
and hence to the child's sympathy. Its softness 
renders it less liable to hurt the child, thus avoid- 
ing dislike or fear. The little hands are able 
to grasp it more readily and more lovingly, and 
lessen the possibility of startling noises, winch 
would interfere with concentration by engaging 
the ear too intensely when the eye is busy. 

3. The various colors serve to distinguish the 
several playmates of the child. The balls are furnished with strings so as to 
be always under the control of the mother or nurse who manages the little 
playmates of the child. 

By using the ball the child exercises every muscle of his body as well as his 
intellectual faculties. All the energy of the child is required to follow and catch 
its bounding playfellow. All his manual strength is requisite to retain it when 
caught, and to send it forth again. Every play, if well directed, may be 
made to promote the child's future good. In play, the first feelings of friend- 
shiiJ are awakened, the first attachment formed, and the tenderest sympatliies 
fostered. By the aid of the ball a vast number of games are played accom-* 
panied by little songs adapted to the infant mind. It may be used in a 
variety of ways which cannot be described in a book, but can be easily 
managed. A few figures are given on Plate 1. In Fig. 1-2, the ball suspended 
by a string is swung to and fro, and the child is taught to understand the 
difference between " here and there." As it moves, the child repeats : Here, 
There. 

Fig. 3. It is held over a Cube or some other object. The child is asked. 
Where is it now ? Answer — Over. 4. It is sAvung to one side, then back again 
to the other. Question— Where now? On this side — or on that side. 5. The 
string is shortened and the baU is drawn nearer to the hand. Q. What do 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



I do'? A. "Wind up. 6. .The string is lengthened, and the hall lowered. 
Q. "What now? A. AVind do"\\ii. 7. The hall is allowed to tap on the tahle. 
Q. "What does it sa}"? -1. Tip, tap, tap. 8. The hall is drawn up on the top 
of the Cuhe. As it rises, the child says. Up, np, up. When it reaches the 
top, Up on top. 

Fig. 9. The ball is made to bound on the table. Question — What does 
it do now? Ansiver — Jump, jump, jump. 10. The ball is caused to spring 
from one side of the Cube to the other. Q. What does it do now? A. Jump 
over. 11. It is drawn along the table. Q. What does it do now? A. Eoll, 
roll, roll. 12. The ball is sent against the Cube, and as it rebounds the child 
is asked, What does it do now? A. Eoll back. 13. The ball is swung round. 
Q. What does it do now? .1. Turn round. 14 and 15. It is s-wung to the 
left, then to the right, and the child is taught to observe the difference, and, 
during the movements, to say, To the left, to the right. Other movements 
such as swinging the ball round forming a large curve, gradually causing the 
circles to become smaller, or a small curve — ^thence to a larger. The attention 
of the child may be directed to this and he says, Smaller, Smaller, or Larger, 
Larger. Higher and Lower, Quicker, Slower, Deeper, etc., may also be 
illustrated. 

TThei Secono Girt. 

The Second Gift is a progressive advance upon the First in substance and 
form, although closely linked to it, and it requires a 
higher development of the child's mind. The objects 
which it contains are the Ball, the Cylinder, and Cube, 
these being the primary forms of all objects. It offers 
^^ a number of valuable contrasts to the preceding Gift 

as well as among its own members. The aim of this 

l|iiiiiiiipiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii|iliiii|iiiiiiiiliiiiii iiiiiiiiillill[ x' 




_^_ Gift is to teach and to direct the attention of the child 

to the similarity and dissimilarity existing between different objects. This is 
done by pointing out, explaining and counting the sides, corners and edges of 
the cube ; by showing that the sphere, the cylinder and the cube differ from 



32 



GIFTS AND OCCUPATIONS. 



one another in their several properties on account of their difference of shape ; 
by pointing out that the apparent form of the sphere is unchanged, however 
looked at, but that the apparent forms of both the cube and the cylinder vary 
according to the point from which they are viewed. The ball and sphere 
represent motion, the cube rest; the former yielding readily to even the slightest 
impulse, the latter resisting quite stubbornly. The value of the cylinder lies 
in the fact that it is the connecting link between the sphere and cube. It pre- 
sents more faces than the first and less than the last named. One of these 
faces is curved in one of its dimensions and the others are plain. It has two 
curved edges, but no corners. This Gift may be placed in the hands of the 
child during its first year, and should be used in connection with the First Gift. 
The amusements with this Gift are so simple that the weakest child can 
find delight in them ; so instructive that the most scientific mind can derive 
information from them, and so capable of a surprising variety, that they 
afford inexhaustible pleasures. They teach a child a dumb language which he 
can understand before he can express his thoughts and impressions in words. 
To the child the simple and rough figure is the most inteUigible. A child will 
arrange stones, cubes, etc., and call them sheep, chickens, or whatever else 
may be, at the time, his mental idea. The illustrations on Plate II., may aid 
the parent or teacher in the use of the Second Gift. During the different 
motions, the following words for each figure may be sung : 



Fig. 1. Eound, round, round, 'tis my de- 
lit^dit, 
From right to left, from left to right, 
To the child I am a pleasing sight. 

2. A Ball I am wherever I go, 
Whenever I turn myself, I show. 

3. The Cube is at rest; It is my wiU 
That it shoidd lie still, quite stih. 

4. It tumbles here, it tumbles there, 

It cannot be still on its edge, 'tis clear. 

5. It stands on one edge and does not fall ; 
Why does it so? — TeU me all. 



6. How easily on one point I stand, 
When steadied by one little hand. 
Look here! and you will quickly learn, 
How easily on one point I turn. 

7. You see but one corner — where are aU 

the others'? 
Ask your little sisters, ask your little 
brothers. 

8. Two cornei;s now, you only can see. 
What are the rest doing? Where -can 
they be ? 



33 



Ihpm right tv leA, from le/i tp rinht, 
7i the c/vUdZa/rt a^ pleasinn 3i^ht^ 











PLATE II.— THE SECOND GIFT. 



34 THE KINDERGARTEN. 



These forms and motions can be multiplied according to the taste and tact 
of the mother or nurse. The solids can he made to jump like a cat, creep like 
a mouse, pass to and fro like a pendulum, go round like a wind-mill, form cir- 
cles, ellipses, etc. All these motions will help to cultivate the powers of ob- 
servation and reflection, and prepare the way for the study of Mechanical 
Science later. 

The T^Hino Giko". 

The Third Gift consists of a two-inch cube divided into eight smaller 
one-inch cubes, by being cut once in each of its three dimensions. Tliis division 
^^..<JJ^v^-~,.,^^ will give the child, for the first time, the impression of measure. 
j|j||j|-^^:. Out of the one is produced a number, like in form and equal 
||i|i-^'';|:: among themselves. Thus, he receives the idea of whole, and 
nil ^P" part ; of form, and of comparative size. A child, when first left 
with a fresh object of any kind, will first examine it, then take it to pieces 
and see what there is inside, and, lastly, try to unite its parts or repair the 
injury done. 

This Gift, designated as Frcebel's First Building Box, will gratify this 
desire in a child. He is first taught to invert the box, after drawing out the 
hd a little way ; secondly, to draw out the lid entirely and lift up the box. He 
then finds the cube complete, and is allowed to pursue the dictates of his 
mind. He may divide it into two, four, or eight equal parts, place them upon 
each other, lay them side by side, count them, or arrange them in different 
ways to suit his inclination. After a time, his attention should be called to 
their form, number of faces, edges, corners, as the whole, and taught to dis- 
tinguish their number, size, form, position and order, and the true meaning of 
up, down, here, there, this, that, these, those, above, below, under, over, upon, 
underneath, within, without, large, small, etc. Every day he will find some- 
thing new for himself. According to his development, he will vary his forms. 
These forms he will find infinite in variety ; his powers of representation will 
be exercised, and his faculties of perception, reflection, and imagination will 




PLATE III.— THE THIRD GIFT. 



36 THE KINDERGARTEN. 



be cultivated. So long as the child is happy it is not well to interfere ; should 
additional aid he required, then let the teacher take her own hox, and show 
one or more examples for the purpose of educing new ideas. The office of 
the mother or teacher in this, as in all other Gifts, is to aid the child in the 
expression of his own ideas, in an indirect manner, by little stories and 
something about the objects which will interest him, thereby associating the 
story with tiie form. 

This Gift will gratify the child's desire for activity in constructing forms 
of life or utility, forms of beauty or symmetry, and forms of perception or 
knowledge. One or more of each of these three classes of exercises may be 
given during a lesson. 

The forms given on Plate III., and observations are intended to assist the 
parent or teacher by suggesting a course of exercises, which will be varied 
according to fancy. Let each form be accompanied by some pleasing tale. 

Fig. 1. Froebel designates this as the Cube or Kitchen Table. The 
teacher may say : Look, my dear children ; what have I here ? Give me its 
name, tell me how many parts it has. How many faces, edges and corners. 
What can it be used for? Follow with other questions. 

Fig. 2. The Fire-Place. The names given for the several forms on this 
Plate are those designated by Froebel. Question — Who can tell me what this is 
like ? What is it used for ? Did any of you ever see a large, old-fashioned 
fire-place, with its great back log and huge brass andirons'? Who of you 
ever saw meals cooked over the fire in the fire-place ? Tell the children of 
how the fire-places were built in olden times. Fig. 3 and 4. Grandpa's and 
Grandma's Chair. What are these? Chairs. Oh, what a comfortable 
chair ! Grandpa or Grandmamma must sit here when they come to see the 
little children, and tell them stories about little boys and kind little girls. 
Fig. 5. A Castle with two Towers. 0. A Strong HolTl. 7. A Wall. 8. A 
High Wall. 11. A Sign Post. 12. A Cross. 13. Two Crosses. 14. Cross 
with a Pedestal. 15. Monument. Exercise. Did you ever see one ? Where? 
What was the name of the Cemetery ? What was the writing on it ? It gave 



11 






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lilliK^ 





PLATE IV.— THE THIRD GIFT. 



38 THE KINDERGARTEN. 



the name of a good man who hved a long time ago, and tried to make every- 
body happy. Can you build a monument ? For whom ? 

Fig. 10. A Sentry-box. 17. A Well. Exercise. What is a Well? What 
is there in it ? Where does the water come from '? What is the use of it ? 
Do you like to bathe in the water '? Little children love to bathe, they always 
look so rosy, so nice and so cheerful after their bath. Little birds, too, like 
to bathe, it makes them so happy, so merry, and so healthful. The little 
flowers cannot bathe, so the dew bathes them, and they are lovely, and smell 
sweet after their bath. Oh, how useful is water ! It refreshes the plants, 
quenches our thirst, etc. 18. City Gate. In old times, cities had walls 
built around them, and had large gates which were guarded for the purpose 
of keeping people out who might do harm. Only a few of the older cities of 
the world now have walls and gates. Sometimes the Church adjoined the 
city gate as in Fig. 20. 19. Triumphal Arch. This is built to record some 
great victory of one nation over another, etc. 

It is essential that all of the blocks should be used in the building of each 
figure. Plate IV, shows the proper method of handling the several cubes in 
constructing the figures given on Plate III. and in the use of the right and 
left hand. This Gift may be given to the child at or about the age of two 
years, and forms, for a long period, an unfailing source for intellectual and 
emotional nature. The term, forms of life, often used in the description of 
the various Gifts, are more or less suggestive representations of surrounding 
objects, and lead to a close observance of objects and to a knowledge of their 
practical uses in human society. Hhe forms of heniity have special reference 
to symmetrical arrangement and cultivate sentiment and feeling, but do not 
refer to any special object. The mathematical forms address themselves to the 
mind and understanding, giving the ideas of number, size, shape, relation, 
etc. When children can build, it is well to give them each time, practice in 
each form ; and in order to make them truly happy, to encourage them to 
sing songs appropriate to their employment. 

While it is the duty of parents and educators to develop freely the 



GIFTS AND OCCUPATIONS. 39 

individuality of their children, they must not lose sight of the fact that man 
is a social being and cannot be properly educated without the assistance and 
co-operation of his fellow beings. This mutual influence is exercised by 
communion far more than by mere words, and kindly feelings are cultivated in 
children far more successfully in common play and properly directed action, 
than by moral precepts alone. To promote this in the Kindergarten, the 
children are allowed to build in union ; this is generally done at the end of 
the lesson, and to render it still more interesting, let all Gifts be accompanied 
by song. 

T^HEi Fourth Gikt: 

The Fourth Gift consists of a large cube, divided by one horizontal and 
three vertical cuts, into eight square oblong blocks, often called bricks. In aim, 
it is similar to that of the Third Gift, but it gives rise to the observation of 
similarity and dissimilarity in regard to length, breadth and height, bringing 

^^^^Z:::^—-^ clearly to the mind of the child the dimensions of bodies. 

W^0^^: It contains the same number of parts as the previous Gift, but 
_ ^^MT^^^ they admit of a greater variety of formations, not only filling 
'■ '"S^^Z^^^^ but enclosing space. Having studied the Third Gift with in- 
terest, the child will find increased delight in using the Fourth. The 
great object of these occupations is to lead to further development, and 
it must always be borne in mind that this can only be accomplished by lead- 
ing the child step by step — not allowing him to take one step before he is 
fully acquainted with the first. 

It will be perceived that, as the parts in this Gift contain a greater 
amount of surface than the cubes, and are capable of enclosing 
a still greater amount of space, a far greater variety of objects may be 
represented, illustrations of which are given on Plate V. The general 
remarks on the Third Gift apply equally to this. The twenty-five Forms 
of Life given on Plate V., are : 



40 THE KINDERGARTEN. 



14. Garden House with Doors. 

15. Shaft. 

16. Shaft. 

17. A Well with Cover. 

18. Fouutaiu. 

19. Closed Garden Wall. 

20. An Open Garden. 

21. An Open Garden. 

22. Watering Trough. 

23. Shooting Stand. 

24. Village. 

25. Triumphal Arch. 



1. The Cube. 

2. Part of a Floor, or Top of a Table. 

3. Two Large Boards. 

4. Foiu' Small Boards. 

5. Eight Building Blocks. 

6. A Long Garden Wall. 

7. A City Gate. 

8. Another City Gate. 

9. A Bee Stand. 

10. A Colonnade. 

11. A Passage. 

12. A Bell Tower. 

13. Open Garden House. 

Lessons in number and form should be given. 

I. Addition and Subtraction. Place the Cubes of a whole class romid the 
table. Let the class march round the table point at each cube, and, if 
practicable, touch each, and sing in the ascending and descending scales, 
1, 2, 3, 4, etc. 

IL Arrange them in twos. March round and sing 2, 4, 6, 8, etc., then 
arrange in threes, fours, etc. 

III. Pursue the same course as before, with this addition: When 
they have arrived at the end of each journey, let them turn round and 
count backwards. Suppose 48 to be the highest number, 47, 46, 45, 44, 43, 
42, etc. 

IV. Arrange as before, but change the terms used : Say 1 and 1 are 2 ; 2 
and 1 are 3, up to the highest number; and, on returning, 100 less 1 leaves 
99, 99 less 1 leaves 98, 98 less 1 leaves 97, etc. Pursue this course through 
aU the divisions into twos, threes, fours, and so on up to tens. 

V. Multiplication and Division. Arrange as before, and march, and 
point, and sing, twice one are 2 ; the ones in 2 are 2 ; 3 times 1 are 3 ; the 
ones in 3 are 3, and so on up to 10. Twice 2 are 4; the twos in 4 are 2 ; 3 
times 2 are 6 ; the twos in 6 are 3, and so on up to 10, taking in succession all 
numbers up to 10. In this manner, multiplication and division will be so 
connected in the mind that the one will always assist the other. Of course, a 
few exercises will be sufficient at one time. Let one number be well mastered 




PLATE v.— THE EOURTH GIFT. 



42 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



before j^roceeding with another. In this way, the fundamental principles of 
mathematics may be taught before the mind is prepared to understand 
abstract rules. 

Ti^HEi Fifth Gikt. 




The Fifth Gift, like those of the preceding Gifts, consists of a Cube, 
divided twice in all directions forming a whole, a half, and quarter cubes ; 
thus the whole Gift consists of twenty- seven pieces. It is an extension of 
the Third Gift. Its peculiarity consists in the increased 
number of parts by which more extended operations can 
be carried on, and the introduction of a new element by 
the subdivision of the cubes in a slanting direction, 
presenting oblique lines and faces, thus forming trian- 
gular shapes. A greater variety of forms of life and 
beauty can be constructed, and more advanced exercises in number and form 
given. It is especially adapted for older children, who have mastered the 
previous Gifts, though cannot be used with profit before the fifth year. 

By the use of the triangle, the child can produce new results ; he can dis- 
pense with sharp corners, give roofs to his houses, construct ground forms for 
his buildings, and perform many wonderful feats. It is natural for the child 
to construct objects with w4iicli he is most familiar, thus tables, chairs, etc., 
are the first objects he builds. From these simple forms, his ideas develop, 
and he constructs a house, with its several rooms, thence follow the church, 
school, or factory, and other buildings. All the lessons given under the Third 
Gift may be repeated with this, leaving the children to discover the increased 
power which the additional playthings give. 

After the children have exhausted all their own resources, the teacher may 
take her own box, commencing with Fig. 8, Plate VI., construct the ground 
form or lay the foundation of her l)uilding in accordance with the plan given ; 
the children follow her example ; this done, she examines every ground form 
to see that all are correct. The foundations being properly laid, she proceeds 



43 





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PLATE VI.— THE FIFTPI GIFT. 



44 THE KINDERGARTEN. 



to raise her structure, during which tiiue she makes such ohservations, rehi- 
tive to the form, size, number of cubes required, etc., as she may deem advis- 
able. Any pleasing tale having a connection with the building may be profit- 
ably told, or the children may be induced to make their own observations. 
One new building is sufficient for one lesson, when it is deemed desirable to 
adapt the Gift to the still further development of the children the teacher may 
converse with the pupils, using every means in her power by pointing at parts 
referred to, or changing the form of her questions to enable the child to under- 
stand what she desires. An endless variety of pleasing instructive exercises, 
calculated to develop form, number, and order, may thus be produced whenever 
required, and, by a glance given at any of the combinations shown on the 
Plates, an ingenious teacher will never be in want of a di'fferent starting point. 
The Eorms of life given on Plate YL, are : 

9. Peasant's Home. 9rt. gromid plan. 

10. School House. 10a. ground plan. 

11. Church. 11a. ground jjlan. 



12. Clnircli with Two Steeples. 12a. 

ground plan. 

13. Factory with Chimney and Boiler 

House. 13a. ground jilan. 



1. Cube. 

2. Flower Stand. 

3. Large Chair. 

4. Easy Chair with Foot Bench. 

5. Bed. 

6. Sofa. 6a. Sofa, ground plan. 

7. A Well. la. ground plan. 

8. Home with Yard. 8a. ground plan 

In giving lessons on Numbers, arrange the parts, and cause the child to 
count halves, quarters, three-quarters, one and a half, and two and three-quar- 
ters, etc., ascending and descending. Let each child demonstrate as he repeats 
i X ^-j; J of 2-1, etc. After the lessons of the Gift, the above will be found 
easy, and great variety of similar lessons may be given, and each afiirmation 
demonstrated by the child. It must also be borne in mind, that all the occu- 
pations of the Third Gift can be extended with this, and hence that any direc- 
tions given must refer to those who have mastered the instructions given under 
that Gift. 

The Sixth Gift is an extension of, and a completement to the Fourth 
Gift, and, by its aid, all the exercises given under the Fourth may be carried out 



45 





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PLATE VTT— THE SIXTH GIFT. 



46 THE KINDERGARTEN. 

to a far greater extent, teaching particularly the proportions, size of oblongs, 
squares, columns, and the number of each kind. It is inexhaustible in 
opportunities for inventing new forms. With the Sixth Gift, the two series of 
development given by Frcebel in the building blocks has been reached. In 
the Four Gifts described, the child has had to do with solids, with forms that 
extend prominently in the three dimensions. It con- 
sists of a large Cube with doubly divided oblongs, 
twenty-seven in number; six of these are bisected in 
the direction of their breadth and three in the direction 
.. ■ ''^■"ii i ^ M<^,.^,^Ml: of their length, into square prisms — making in all thirty- 
six pieces. After the children have exhausted their own resources, and, by 
the aid of the teacher, mastered the various artistic and mathematical forms, 
as well as those of utility given on Plate YII., questions may be asked of the 
pupils such as. Wherein does this Gift differ from the Fifth ? Wherein does 
it resemble that Gift? Answer — It has the same length, breadth, depth, the 
same number of faces, edges, and corners ; the faces are all plain faces, and 
are bounded by straight lines, which all meet in points forming angles. It 
has six faces, twelve edges, eight corners, twenty-four right angles. Question — 
What are the contents of your box ? Q. Describe the blocks of the Fourth Gift. 
Now, describe the j)laythings which you have met for the first time. A. The 
long ones are square prisms, each having four rectangular faces, and two square 
faces ; each of the rectangular faces is equal to four of the square faces. Each 
of the short ones have also two square faces and four rectangular faces ; 
but each square face is equal to two of the rectangular faces. The long ones and 
the short ones are equal to each other, and one long one and one short one, 
though different in form, are together equal to one of the eighteen oblongs. 

The children may now be required to build by dictation. Hitherto they 
have either followed the dictates of their own mind, or imitated the desiglis of 
others. An endless variety of dictation lessons may be given, according to 
the peculiar genius of the teacher and the capacities of the children. The 
selections of forms of life given on Plate VII., are designated by Froebel as : 



GIFTS AND OCCUPATlOXb. 



47 



1. House without roof . la. Ground plan. 

2. Colonnade. 2a. Ground plan. 
8. Hall with columns. 

4. Summer House. 4«. Ground plan. 

5. Memorial Column of the Three Friends. 

5a. Gi'ound plans. 

6. Monument in honor of some Fallen 

Hero. Ga. Ground plan. 



7. Facade of a Large House. ?</. Ground 

plan. 

8. The Columns of the Three Heroes. 

8a. Ground i)lan. 

9. Entrance to Hall of Fame. 9a. 

Ground plan. 




The Seventh Gift consists of finely i^olislied quadrangular and triangu- 
lar Tablets, of light and dark hard woods in their natural colors, and are used 
for the laying of figures. These tablets, as also the preceding Gifts, are 

designed for the instruction in shift- 
ing or reversing the composition of 
forms and combining them. The plane 
surfaces, for the first time, are now 
introduced in this Gift. The child 
cannot now produce the object itself , but may produce a form similar to it, 
by arranging the squares and triangles in a certain order. He should be 
taught the connection existing between this and the previous Gifts. The 
tablets are but the separated sides of the Cube or solid, and are for the pro- 
duction of images of objects, while the Cube produced or united the objects 
themselves. 

It would Ije impossible to explain in detail within the space allowed, the 
application of this invaluable Gift, as it would require a small volume to even 
hint at the various methods of its use ; but the 
object is to call attention to its directly practi- 
cal nature, and how to use it in the Kindergar- 
ten. On Plate VIII., are given many forms pro- 
duced by the use of the tablets. The most popular sets now manufactured 
contain tablets composed of light and dark wood equal in number, leaving 
the natural colors of the wood with a finely polished surface. This 




48 THE KINDERGARTEN. 



furnishes material for designs in light and shade, without the introduction of 
the element of color, as the natural woods do not convey the idea of color of 
any kind, they are as thin as is consistent with strength and durability that 
they may represent surfaces only. The tablets for the Seventh Gift are also 
made of very heavy and solid paper board. They may also be obtained made 
of wood, in six assorted colors ; red, yellow, blue, for the primary colors, and 
green, purple, or violet, and orange, for the secondary colors. 

The square tablet is the tj^^e of four-sided figures. It is the simplest 
form and is first presented. The square being divided from corner to corner, 
a new figure is presented which is found to have three sides, but which is 
not the type of three-sided figures ; and the equilateral triangle is next pre- 
sented which is the t^'pical and simplest triangle. If the equilateral triangle 
were divided through a line bisecting one angle as was the square, the result is 
two triangles of still different shape, the scalene. If these two are placed base to 
base, the result is still another, the obtuse-angled triangle, and we thus have 
all of the five forms of the Seventh Gift. The square educates the eye to 
judge correctly of a right angle, one of the first essentials of a skilled 
artisan. The division of the square gives the 45^ triangle, thus educating 
the eye to measure that universal angle the miter, (-15'^), one-half the right 
angle. The equilateral triangle has three GO'^ angles, six of which form a 
complete circle ; the divided equilateral or right-angled scalane has one angle 
of 90'=', one of G0°, and one of 30^. These represent all the angles which 
may be termed standards and a child in the Kindergarten should become as 
familiar with them as with the size of the squares on his table. 

In presenting this Gift, a piece of aj^ple or bread may be cut just the size 
and shape of a cube of the Third Gift, and then a slice cut from it to 
show how the square tablet, which should be first given, is a representative 
of the cube. The child will immediately want tablets enough to build up a 
cube, and when he is satisfied himself how many it takes for this purpose he 
will be interested to learn what can be done with the cube cut in so many 
slices. The right-angled isosceles follows the square and two may be given 




PLATE VIII.— THE SEVENTH GIFT. 



50 THE KINDERGARTEN. 



which will at once be seen to be the square tablet in halves. The equilateral 
is related to the isosceles triangle by its material and the number of its angles, 
and may be carefully observed. Give two of the forms and let one be placed 
on the top of the other, with the angles midway between the angles of the 
lower one and the indication of the circle is quite marked. Then follows 
the scalene, which is shown to be an equal division of the equilateral as the 
right-angled isosceles is half of the square and, united by its short sides, 
forms the obtuse-angled-triangle. These triangles may be two or more 
kinds together but it should not be forgotten that similarity with the 
previous step should be explained and felt, before opposite qualities are 
enlarged upon. As a Kindergarten Gift this material should not be used with- 
out a knowledge of its relation to the whole system, but it ma}^ be used as 
busy work to advantage independently of other Gifts, although such use should 
not be called Kindergarten. 

T^HEi B^iGHTH Gift. 

The Eighth Gift consists of sticks or staffs of varying length, about 
one-twelfth of an inch thick ; they are used for the laying of figures, and are 
intended to teach numerical proportion and variety of form. They represent 

the embodied straight line, and are an excellent 
preparation for Drawing and other occupations ; by 
its use, the pupil is advanced another step forward 
and secures material to draw the outline of objects 
by bodily lines. This occupation is in close connec- 
tion with the others already described. It is not an 
accidental one, but a necessary result of the Kinder- 
garten principle. Although connected with the others, 
it is distinct from them, and requires a higher degree of mental power than 
the others. The senses must be already much cultivated, especially the eyes 
and hands. In order to find the proportion of the distances, the child must 
have an idea of square, round, straight, right, left, horizontal, perpendicular. 




51 




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59 



PLATE IX.— THE EIGHTH GIFT. 



5? THE KINDERGARTEN. 



oblique, parallel, though he may not be able to define them. B}^ the use of 
the sticks, the child is introduced into the different employments and depart- 
ments of life. They increase the knowledge of variety, lead from the visible to 
the invisible, develop) steadiness, are a means of uniting, and exercise the 
faculties generally. They teach that out of the simplest materials can be pro- 
duced that which is useful, beautiful and instructive. 

Whenever a new Gift is introduced for the first time, the Kindergartener 
must gather the children around a table, and devote some time to the expla- 
nation of the Gift or occupation by questions and answers, encouraging 
imagination and invention, by calling on the pupils to construct with the 
given forms, all other forms possible, and to tell what they look like in 
the outer world. It is presumed that the teacher, whose employment is to 
cultivate the young mind, has embraced the whole subject, and realized the 
good and the beautiful in her whole life. 

In introducing this Gift, the teacher gives out one stick to each ; requires 
each to take it in the right hand, pass it to the left, hold it up, lay it down, 
let it rest on one end, lift it up, and let it fall on the table, so as to produce 
sound. After a few preparatory movements, according to the fancy of the 
teacher, she asks : What does this stick represent ? Each child will look 
at it and give the name of some familiar object, as a ruler, pencil, column. 
She requires them all to lay down their sticks, so as to form a line around 
the table, to give the idea of association. 

Two sticks may now be given with which a new series of questions may 
be proposed. Take one in each hand, both in one hand, lay them down, 
separate them, place them in different positions, illustrating the various lines 
and angles, and any object with which they are familiar. Make the letters I, 
L, T, V, X, etc., and arrange them in different ways. Exercise them with 
three, four, five, and any other number forming different figures — counting 
angles, etc. At the end of each exercise, cause them to form something in 
common, in order to cultivate the social feeling. Our Plate IX, gives repre- 
sentations of a large number of forms — Fig, 1-3, those formed with one 




PLATE X.— THE NINTH GIFT. 



54 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



staff — the perpendicular, horizontal, and slanting or oblique lines, are shown. 
Fig. 4-31, various forms produced with two staffs. Fig. 32-iO, forms with 
three staffs. Fig. 41-52, combinations formed with four staffs. Fig. 53-59, 
the figures with five staffs. By the use of other staffs, these figures may be 
extended to produce an innumerable number of interesting and beautiful 
forms. 

T?HEi Nino^h: Gift. 

The Ninth Gift consists of whole and half rings used for the laying of 
figures embodying circles. It is a continuation of the previous Gift 
and preparatory to drawing and designing. These rings are of two 
different sizes, made of wire and embrace twelve whole and twenty-four half 




O 



O 



O 



6 



Combination fobmed with the Eighth and Ninth Gifts. 

circles. They are intended, like the Eighth Gift, to teach form and proportion 
and represent rounded curve lines. All figures produced are, owing to the 
nature of the circular line, forms of beauty ; hence the occupation with these 
rings is of great importance. The sticks of the Eighth Gift and the rings of 
this may be used together with very pleasing and profitable results as shown 
by our illustration. The teacher should not fail to call the attention of the 



55 



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PLATE XI.— THE TENTH GIFT. 



■■"^ 



50 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



children to the difference hetween this and the previous gifts. In the ring, 
there are no angles, as in all previous ones. Plate X., Fig. 1 represents the 
full circle in which there is neither a heginning nor end, and an absence of any 
angle. Fig. 2 shows the two-half rings or half- circles, each having two ends, 
the two forming one whole ring or a complete circle. In Fig. 4-14, are 
shown various forms of beauty produced by the use of a number of the 
rings and half rings. 

T^^HE ^EiN^H Gift. 

The Tenth Gift is devoted to drawing. In all the Gifts previously intro- 
duced, the pupil has studied and represented forms and figures. The natural 
sequence has been the development of a desire to draw lines and plans that 

formed the objects of study. Frcebel has 

most ingeniously satisfied this desire in the 
child. He gives the pupil a slate, one side 
of which is covered by a net-work of en- 
graved lines one-fourth of an inch apart, in 
two sets at right angles to each other and 
just deep enough to guide the child in mov- 
ing the pencil ftnd greatly to assist in 
measuring and comparing situation and 
position. The slates manufactured by Milton, Bradley & Co., Springfield, 
Mass., are superior to the ordinary Kindergarten slate, in that their slates are 
perfectly ruled by machinery and have a plain margin all around next to the 
frame so that each corner is a perfect square entirely separated from the 
frame. Children have always found a great inconvenience in drawing from dic- 
tation as they had no definite corner or margin from which to count ; also, many 
times, the ruling has been imperfect, the squares being very unequal in size. 
The slate and pencil may be placed in the child's hands as early as the 
third year of his life. The slate is first used, in that mistakes may be the 
more easily corrected and imperfect figures erased ; drawing on the slate is 




Marginal Ruled Slate. 



57 




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PLATE XII.— THE TENTH GIFT. 



^8 THE KINDERGARTEN. 



followed by drawing on paper, the latter being ruled like the slates. The 
child is first exercised in drawing perpendicular lines of equal length, and of 
unequal length as illustrated on Plate XI. This may be followed by the hori- 
zontal and oblique lines, by the angles, right, acute, obtuse, equilateral, 
isosceles, scalene, right-angled scalene, obtuse-angled scalene, right-angled 
isosceles, acute-angled isosceles, obtuse-angled isosceles, followed by squares, 
l)entagons, rhombs, trapezoids and other figures. As soon as the child has 
acquired some skill in making the straight lines, he will take delight in drawing 
■upon the slate the various figures he has constructed with the sticks and 
tablets, and to invent forms of beauty with the pencil, and to verify them 
afterward with the tablets and sticks. The Tenth and Eleventh, and so on 
to the Nineteenth Gift inclusively, are appropriate to sub-classes from six to 
seven years, while the Twentieth and the drawing of things from memory in a 
recognizable style, require a sub-class of seven years on an average. 

T^^HEi KiaEiveinth: and XweiiaKTh: Gifts. 

The Eleventh and Twelfth Gifts consist of material for perforating or 
pricking and embroidering or sewing. The material for these two occupa- 
tions consists of a piece of net paper placed upon 
layers of soft blotting paper, which should be of all 
the various shades and hues. Prepared lithographed 
j)aper is also used. A strong sewing needle, fastened in 
a holder so as to project about one-fourth of an inch, 
is used as the perforating tool, and, with which, the 
pupil pierces the representation on the paper, to 
which they subsequently give the natural colors of 
the objects by employing worsted or silk. The aim of these occupations are 
the production of the beautiful by the child's own activity and its own inven- 
tion. Embroidering should not begin until the pupil has acquired consider- 
able skill in perforating. A careful and conscientious teacher will readily 




59 



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PLATE XIII.— ELEVENTH AND TWELFTH GIFT. 



6o 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



note the direction in wliicli the facuhy of the pupil may be developed. Start- 
ing from the single point Fig. I., Plate XIII., the child gradually advances 
tlu-ough the several grades as in drawing, forming the various lines, angles, and 
circles. The figures on Plate XIV., may be used for perforating and embroider- 




ing in course of time. The most beautiful representations of natural and 
artificial objects may be produced, giving mute but eloquent proof of an early 
acquired taste in regard to form and color, and of manual dexterity and skill 
rarely witnessed in children of such tender age. 

The T;^hirteieinth Gifod. 



The Thirteenth Gift consists of Material for cutting paper and mounting 
pieces to produce figures and forms. The materials for this occupation are a 
square piece of paper of the size of one-sixteenth sheet, and suitable paper or 
card-board for mounting ; for the latter purpose, stout manilla wrapping paper 
cut in pieces, seven to nine inches square, will be found quite serviceable, a pair 
of blunt-pointed scissors, a small dish or bottle of mucilage, a small, clean 
piece of cotton cloth and a camel-hair brush complete the outfit. 

Paper-cutting is an exercise by which an endless variety of forms are 
produced by cutting away a portion of the ground form, whereas, by paper- 




PLATE XIV.— ELEVENTH AND TWELFTH GIFT. 



62 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 




folding the figures are produced upon the ground form. By paper cutting, a 
greater variety of forms can be produced, especially forms of symmetry, the 
child's inclination to use the scissors is here so ingeniously turned to account 

as to produce most gratifying results. 
There is no occupation in the Kindergar- 
ten which affords so wide a field for the 
gratification of the imagination, and the 
exercise of the artistic faculties. It may 
be commenced by very young children, and 
young ladies of any age may find in this 
employment an opportunity of exercising 
their taste for the beautiful. The ground 
form is made with a square piece of thin 
paper according to the following directions : 1 . Lay all the j)apers straight 
on the table. 2. Unite two opposite corners so as to form two triangles. 

3. Hold the double corners in the fingers and unite the other two corners. 
By this means, a triangle is produced with one side closed and the other open 

4. Turn one of the folds to the right, the 
other to the left, keeping the corners where 
they are all united between the fore-finger 
and the thumb. 

It is most important that the pupils 
should be allowed to indulge their fancies at 
fu-st in cutting. After they have attained 
some dexterity, they should be induced to 
cut out portions of the ground form without 
cutting through it. As in the other Gifts 
preceding, the teacher should not lose sight 
of the various lines, angles, and circles. The various forms given on Plate XV., 
will enable the teacher to accomplish an exactness in cutting if the dotted lines 
there shown are followed. The children may ba trained to imitate leaves, 





PLATE XV.— THE THIRTEENTH GIFT. 



64 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



flowers, combination of leaves and flowers, with an immense variety of 
beautiful forms which cannot be described. The results of this occupation 
can be used as patterns for embroidery, lace Avork, carpeting, calico, printing, 
etc. Common paper can be used for the first exercises, but, for the more 
delicate forms, the finest satin paper is required. 



The Fouro^eeinth: Giko:, 

The Fourteenth Gift consists of Material for braiding and weaving. The 
materials used are strips of colored paper and a steel or wooden needle of 

peculiar construction, as represented on Plate 
XA I. Braiding is produced by drawing with 
the needle a loose strip differently colored 
through the strips of the braiding sheet, the 
latter will appear alternately over and under, 
as shown by the illustration. The braiding 
sheet must be of some plain color, cut into 
strips throughout its entire surface, except a 



5 


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f^^^ — • — 1 




MhE^S 


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Hfi^iJ 



margin at the end. The greatest variety of designs are produced, and the 
inventive powers of teacher and pupils constantly increase the numbers. 
Glazed muslin, leather, silk or woolen ribbon, 
straw or any like material may be used instead 
of paper. Children of five years of age are 
much delighted with this work and anxious to 
manifest their skill in its use. 
4 As the imaginations of children are gener- 
ally very powerful, they invent patterns by 
allowing the slips to cover one, two, or more in 
succession, as fancy dictates ; by this means, 

they produce patterns so beautiful that persons who have not seen the opera- 
tion can foim no conception of them. 





PLATE XVI. —THE FOURTEENTH GIFT. 



66 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



In this occupation, not only the eyes and hands of the children are 
educated, but the taste for beauty is developed — order, neatness and indus- 
trial habits are promoted ; they exercise their inventive powers and prepare 
themselves for useful occuj)ations. 




The Fifteenth Gift consists of disconnected Slats, made of birch, or any 

tough wood, ten inches long, three-eighths of an inch broad and one-six- 
teenth of an inch thick ; they are used to construct 
objects by interlacing them. This is a relief from 
those occupations that reqiure mental action and 
a greater amount of patience and perseverance. 
Children exercised in laying sticks and uniting sticks, 
will easily succeed in plaiting sticks. This occupa- 
tion also presents the various lines and angles which 

should never be lost sight of by the teacher, and 

impressed on the mind of the child ; the con- 
stituent parts of each figure and their quaUties, 

and the service each individual slat performs in 

it, should receive attention. To form a figure, 

four or more sticks are needful; as in other 

Gifts, the child is supplied with tli^ material, 

and free exercise encouraged. When necessary, 

the teacher assists by forming first, simple, and 

afterward, complex combinations. Plate XVIII., illustrates forms produced 

with four, five and six slats respectively. 

TThE SlXTEElNa?!-! GlKO?. 

The Sixteenth Gift consists of the Jointed or Connected Slats, with several 
Hnks. This Gift represents the embodied edge of the figure, it is the outline 





PLATE XVII.— THE FOURTEENTH GIFT. 



68 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



form of the plane of which, owing to the hreadth of the single slats, it is still a 
considerable part. It is used to represent different forms, geometrical or 
symmetrical, or into representations of objects, by changing the directions of 

the links. The Slat embraces four, six, 
eight, and sixteen links, which are intro- 
duced one after the other, when opportunity 
offers. The child, upon receiving the slat, 
should be asked to unfold all of the links of 
the slat, and to place it upon the table so 
as to represent the various lines ; this may 
be followed by the square, and the different triangles. Exercises in the use of 
this occupation can be rendered exceedingly interesting and instructive to the 
children. The richness of the material afforded by this Gift cannot be over- 
estimated, on account of the simplicity of its application for educational 
purposes. 




The Seventeenth Gift consists of material for intertwining. This occu- 
pation is similar to that of the Fifteenth Gift, and, like the two last described 





Gifts, is used to represent a variety of geometrical as well as fancy forms, by 
bending, twisting, and interlacing them according to certain rules. The 
materials used are strips of Paper of various colors, lengths, and widths, folded 



69 




PLATE XVIII.— THE FIFTEENTH GIFT. 



■JO THE KINDERGARTEN. 



lengthwise. Each strip is subdivided into smaller strips of three-quarters of an 
inch wide, which, by folding their long sides, are transformed to threefold 
strips, one-quarter of an inch wide. The main object of this occupation is to 
teach the pupil to be clean, neat and correct in the performance of every 
task. This is one of the most difficult of the several Gifts, and occupations, 
requiring a somewhat skilled hand. It should only be introduced to the more 
advanced pupils. On Plate XIX., are given a number of forms. It will not 
be very difficult to j)roduce a great variety of similar figures, if one will act 
according to the motives obtained and derived from the occupation with the 
interlacing slats. 

The Eighteenth Gift teaches Paper-Folding. The material used in this 
occupation consists of square, rectangular and triangular pieces, with wdiich 
variously shaped objects are formed, and the elements of Geometry are taught 

in a practical manner. The variety is end- 
less, and prepares the child for many similar 
and useful manual performances in practical 
life. This occupation has a close connection 




with the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Gifts. When children have formed parts 
into a combined whole, they proceed to manufacture upon a ground form, new 
and different objects of various shapes. For this occupation, the children 
must have a previous conception of the different objects which they have 
to form. 

The material used is a square piece of paper. Each child, having received 
this paper, is allowed, at first, to form any object at pleasure, as in the other 
occupations. This being done the teacher commences her development by 
giving illustrations of different forms, such as a box, basket, ship, stars, etc. 
The mathematical forms which can be made, are especially important and 
practical as a means of conveying an idea of many important truths in 
geometry. The following are a few examples with the triangular form : 




PLA'FE XIX.— THE SEVENTEENTH CAYT. 



72 THE KINDERGARTEN. 



1. Fold the paper so that the two oj^posite corners unite, forming two 
right-angled isosceles triangles. By this means, it is clearly seen that such a 
triangle is exactly one-half of a square, having the same base and perpen- 
dicular. 

2. Fold the square in the middle, and two equal parallelograms are 
formed ; and, on opening the paper, we find two equal right-angled triangles 
joining each other at the vertices, and two trapezoids equal to each other. 

3. Fold the square in the middle the other way, so as to form two equal 
parallelograms as before, and, on opening it, we find two equal squares, and 
four equal isosceles triangles, which are equal to two other squares, or one of 
the parallelograms. 

4. Fold the paper as at first ; but unite the two contrary corners, and, when 
opened, we find the whole square divided into eight equal right-angled isosceles 
triangles, having all their vertices meeting in the center. 

5. Fold the same paper into four equal squares, then unite the two 
corners which have not been before united, and eight equal triangles will be 
produced. On opening the paper, we find a .square in the center, divided into 
eight equal triangles, and, on each side of the square, one right-angled triangle 
divided into two equal triangles ; the whole square contains sixteen equal, 
right-angled isosceles triangles. By further foldings, a greater variety may be 
j^roduced. 

By these foldings, it will be clearly seen that the base of each of these 
triangles is longer than either of its sides, and that the two acute angles of 
each triangle are tog her equal to one right angle. Fig. 1, Plate XX. 
represents a half sheet of paper placed upon the table, the several folds are 
clearly shown in the figures that follow, showing lines, angles, squares, 
mathematical, and symmetrical forms. 

T;^HEI NlNETElENTH GlKT. 

The Nineteenth Gift embraces Peas and Cork work. When a child has 
acquired dexterity in laying sticks, for the purpose of representing different 



73 




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4^^ 



/^ 




/^^ 



--.-*,■— 



X 


^v' 








i5 



PLATE XX.— THE EIGHTEENTH CilFT. 



74 



TliE KINDERGARTEN. 



objects, a desire naturally arises to unite them in some way or other, so that 
they may have a distinct independent existence ; thus stick laying leads to 
stick combining. This practice requires greater skill, care, and delicacy, and 




can be usefully employed as a means of development after the child is too old 
for the Kindergarten. The material used consists of peas, soaked in water 
for 8 or 12 hours, and pieces of wire of the thickness of a hair pin, of various 
lengths, and pointed at the ends. The ends of the wire are stuck into the 
peas for the purpose of imitating real objects and the various geometrical 
figures ; skeletons which can be moved about in a satisfactory manner are 
thus produced, which train the eye most successfully for perspective drawing. 
Wooden sticks, similar to those used in stick laying, but thinner, may be used 
in place of wire, and small cubes of cork in place of i^eas. The first step in 
this work is, as usual, the most simple. A certain number of sticks and j^eas 
are given each child, and the question is asked : "What can you form ? In 
order to ascertain the children's ideas, they are allowed freely to express their 
thoughts, attention being always given to such regulations as are needful to 
preserve order. Having ascertained the peculiar individuality of the child, she 
gives such examples as she may deem necessary, always commencing with the 
most simple forms. Plate XXL, shows a number of skeleton forms that can be 
produced from these simple materials. Care must be taken to point out, 
kindly, all defects in form, size, position, proportion, or arrangement, and every 



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fe/ (k 



<M XA/ 



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PLATE XXI.— THE NINETEENTH GIFT. 



76 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



encouragement slioulcl be given to those who are unable to produce harmo- 
nious forms. 

The Twentieth Gift teaches the art of modehng, or working in clay. 
This Gift was held by Froebel as an essential part of his means of education ; 
he claimed that the first exercises in modeling should represent the fourteenth 
stereometric fundamental forms of crystallization which he presents in a box 
by themselves. Starting from the cube, the cylinder, sphere, pyramid, and 
others follow. This work follows drawing. It is different, but it is developed 
from drawing. Modeling is a wider field for the exercise of the child's 
executive and observing faculties. Children take to it with avidity, and the 
results of their labors are by no means common-place. 

For the occupation of modeling, the child is provided with a piece oi 
plastic clay or wax, a wooden modeling knife, a small board, and a piece of 
oiled paper or cloth, on which to perform the work. A simple, round ball is 
the first thing that should be attempted, because this form must be first made, 




whether a flower, or a pyramid, or other elementary object is to be modeled. 
"When the simple ball can be made with perfection (Fig. 1 . Plate XXII. ), other 
forms may be imitated. The ball can easily be changed by attaching a stem 



11 






77 








X 








,-' 









PLATE XXII. -THE TWENTIETH GIFT. 



78 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



to it and producing the cherry as shown in Fig. 2. Depressing and elevating it 
the young artist has an apple. See Fig. 3. A nut, potato, pear, egg, etc., may 
also be readily produced. From the ball is derived the cylinder (Fig. 6) 
and the cube (Fig. 11), which furnish central points for a variety of forms of 
life and beaut}'. When any object is well formed, it should be jjreserved as a 
model. A child will persevere in trying to accomplish what another child has 
done, with far better determination than if the same object had been produced 
by an adult, in this, more than in any other employment. In this occupa- 
tion, as in others, the chief object is to develop creative powers, imitation 
being a secondary consideration. 

Kindergarten Materials. — AH the appliances referred to in the foregoing 
pages of this book for instructing and interesting children in the Kindergarten and 
in the home are fmnished by Milton Bradley Company, Springfield, Mass. Thomas 
Charles, Western Agent, 75 and 77 Wabash Avenue, Chicago, 111. 




Songs 

AND Physical 

Plays 



To teach by play is not to spare the child exertion or relieve 
him from it^ but to awaken in him a passion which forces on 
him, and renders easy, the strongest effort,***In childish play deep 
meaning lies.***Play is the child's first poetry, — -Jean Paul. 



KINDERGARTEN SONGS. 




N selecting the following songs for school, home, and Kindergarten 
care has been taken to choose those, which, in music, and rhythm 
of words are in child-like, yet correct idiom, and seem best adapted 
^®0^«^ for the expression of feeling and thoughts common to childhood. 
~^^~ Much beauty is necessarily lost in the translation of the poetic 

German verse and spirit in our own language. This poetry and 
rhythm in all of its forms our American children greatly need, and perhaps no 
phase of Froebel's work appeals more directly to the hearts of mothers and teach- 
ers than do his songs and games. Yet, of all the work of the Kindergarten, this 
is most left to chance, or is unscientifically taught. Froebel has taken such high 
ground in the presentation of the aim, toward which all development should 
tend, that we have no right to be satisfied with any but the best and truest 
ideal. I believe we are only on the threshold of the knowledge necessary to 
guide children in music. In form, and in color, far more progress has been 
made ; surely music and movement are not of less importance, especially when 
one realizes that it is pre-eminently the means by which the very center of the 
being, the affections, may find an avenite of expression. This matter cannot 
be too carefully studied, and all that is done should be on the side of science 
and art, although the child may and should be wholly unconscious of it. 

There is not the slightest doubt that so soon as we demand good music 
and good verse for our children, it will be forthcoming. Let us, therefore, lay 
aside, as soon as possible, all that is a hindrance — all that is not the best, and 
study those principles by means of which a true judgment may be formed. 

Alice H. Putnam. 

EnglexDood, III. 




THE PHYSICAL PLAYS. 

HE active instincts of childhood, which, rightly directed, develop 
into the determined energy of manhood, show themselves mostly 
in play, which also brings to light indications of character, ten-: 
^^^Pt^^^ derness and capacities of various kinds. Play takes every form, 
^f^ from mere boisterous exercise of limbs and voice, to trials of skill 
and mimic representation of whatever belongs to the older life, in 
the midst of which the children live. In every form, it is full of instruction 
and interest to educators, and, to Froebel, it was the book in which he studied 
child nature, while, through play, he brought his educational principles power- 
fully into action. In the Kindergarten, the motion plays are conceded to be 
the most valuable, as well as the most delightful. The songs introduced in 
this volume possess educational value of a high order. In them, the pupil 
reveals himself ; a sympathizing and watchful teacher or parent will be able to 
discover his weak points and to check the growth of faulty traits, and encour- 
age the development of the good traits of character. When the play of 
children is rightly directed and understood, a sweet, unselfish spirit, habits of 
order, system, energy and grace of motion can be cultivated. In the exercise 
of their muscles, strength and health is increased, nervousness disappears, 
cheerfulness and a desire for social intercourse is advanced. Children, in the 
Kindergarten, should be taught to sing by ear, and not by note ; the pupil 
should stand erect, the mouth opened, carefully avoiding the straining of the 
voice, as stated in the explanation of the Eighth Gift. The teacher, when 
introducing a new Gift for the first time, must gather the little ones round a 
table, and devote some time to the explanation of the object by questions and 



SONGS AND PHYSICAL PLAYS. 83 

answers. Before one of the pieces of Music is taken up she should recite tho 
httle poem entire, exphiining all expressions that may be new to the pupils, 
carefully avoiding the fault of having the children commit to memory that 
which is beyond their conception, or which is not sufficiently brought home to 
their reflection and understanding. After having recited the piece several 
consecutive times, until the class can correctly repeat the piece from memory, 
she should sing for them three or four times with the words, till a number of 
her pupils can correctly imitate it. The singing is always a great feast to the 
children, if the tune is not stale. Singing exercises should open and conclude 
each session of the school, as also other exercises, when they threaten to be 
wearisome, may be interrupted by singing. 

The Kindergarten is not unreasonable in its claim that all instruction, 
and even all play whatsoever, shall be made an Object Lesson. The five senses 
are first cultivated, thereby furnishing the mind with correct and complete 
impressions of the outer world. The attention of the child must first be called 
to these senses by questions and answers before he will see, hear, feel, smell 
and taste all the features of the object. Once having learned to examine all 
objects for new impressions on its senses, it will perceive and observe a hun- 
dred features about even familiar objects, which other children and even adults 
do not find out. 

Kindergarten plays are divided into five classes, namely : 1, Is represent- 
ative of symbols, some of the ball games, the windmill, etc. 3. Represent- 
atives of nature ; as, the fishes, the bees, etc. 3, Representatives of industries ; 
such as the farmer, miller, etc. 4. Gymnastic exercises and marches ; 
such as the marching and finger plays. 5. Conversational and moral songs ; 
the latter may be used daily, as it includes opening and closing songs. Perfect 
time and precision in the movement games are necessary, or the chief 
charm is lost on the child. 

Miss E. P. Peabody, of Boston, who, years ago, became interested in the 
subject, and has, in- lectures, conversations, and writings given glimpses of 
Frcebel's ideas, says of his physical plays : 



84 THE KINDERGARTEN. 



" 111 this study into the divine meaning of the instinctive, spontaneous 
plays of childhood, it was Proebel's purpose to elevate the mother's instinct 
into insight, and thereby purify it from idiosyncratic infirmities, so that she 
might see, in the unconscious play of the child, the same laws working that 
make the archangel in his heavenly sphere ; even as the same laws that whirl 
the planets in their vast orbits guide the stone flung from a child's hand. 
Thus she would see that, to make the child's play hearty and enjoyable, it 
must be kept so by her companionship and sympathy; and compass the 
childish aim successfully by her suggesting the laws of order which are not 
yet evolved in the child's own mind ; but which orderly playing will develop, to 
guide the life forever after, into communion with the wisdom, love, and power 
of God, When this lesson is fully learned, and faithfully applied in education 
by mothers and their assistant Kindergarteners, who build the bridge between 
the mother's nursery and the schools of instruction, the demoralizing chaos, 
in which we seem to have been living for ages, will give way to a paradise 
more than regained, because glorified by that union of Love and Thought, as 
companions using the highway of human life." 




THE LIGHT BIRD, 



Child. 
(M.sr.; = 116.) 



'^ ^n-t-^-Hi"^^^^^ ^^^ 



birdie dear, birdie dear, birdie on the wall! birdie dear, 



m 



«:i 



m=f 



^^ 



%--*: 



-? N- 



^ ±:: ; : i+i-h^^i-^^^tp^ 



% 



bir - die dear. Bold still now while I call, Yoa most not fly 



way BO, ijid 



P 



± 



-^ — N- 



M 



-P-^ 



3t=i!j: 



^i=^ 



:*^ 



m 



-f- 



- ^ V ^ 



V ^'-L 



F:^^ 



dance a - boat and play so, birdie dear, U birdie dear. Hold still now while I caU. 

Mother, 
(m.m. J =58.) 



^ 



:^=5=1^ 



=r4=r 






The lit 



tie bird 



formed of light. It can • not be held in the 



^ 



^ 



i 



- > 7 ^ 



■F=^ 



1 •? ^ 



-^ ^ |ttn ^ 



the sight; It shines to 



fin - gcrs tight. It flies on the wall jnst to 



ls=fe 



^ 



* 



^"#^ ^^^ ii=hfe=^t^^=^ 



^~ 



# 



give 



# 



5fc 



the heart de - light. So is it in life with ful' ma - ny a 

-^ ^ f^ f^Hy— 



^ 



£ 



^ 



TjTj^ 



B»-^- 



^ 



We are not to seize in our bands the treasure. It wa - kens a 



^ 



-Mm'-m- 



il 






^=4-JB-^^-t 



^ 



=#^ 



:t± 



bier feel - ing of joy. And both shall bo - come then, the gainers there - by. 

S5 



BECKON TO THE PIGEONS, 



(m.m. J=69.) 



^^ 



& 



^m 



II 



M--^ 



:4=3= 



r^ 



±± 



The pigeons are com - ing, dear love, to mee{ yon. Beckon, then saj, "sweet pigeons, I greet yoa ! 



FISHES IN THE BROOK. 



(m.m. J=72.) 






Mer-ri-ly in — the brook - let clear, Swim the bright fish- es far and near. Now 






m 



-m-^*- 



Some of ihem straight, some bent like a bow. 



darting, now floating, ever they go, 



(M.M.J =69.) 



LENGTHWISE, CROSSWISE, or the Target. 






m 



This piece of wood I length - wise lay; Ttoa piece across the oth - er way, Through 






T^- 



both 1 bore now a good round hole, A wood - en nail drive throng j the whole. This board will for the 



-^^^^m 



^. 



:t±± 



-VH?- 



A ^ V—*-^ 



t^±^-. 



T"^: 



disc avail. The target is ready now for sale! What costs it? Three half pennies; Why three half 
^ (M.M. J =100.) 



i 



^- 



^3- 



^ 



^ 



i^_^ 



^-^-^f- ^- 



:4^=t 



rrr 



s^ 



:^3i 



iUze 



pennies? That's one too many! 



r-^ 



ri. 



■r 






-#-*- 



Tl" 



One half penny pays for the frame of wood. One half penny pays for the 






:t^=J5::iit 






1=T^ 



^-ft 



^ ^ 



4::* ! «: "r? 






^-^-^ 



utile smooth board, One half penny pays for the work a - bout it, who cannot pay it maygowituoat itl 

86 



Gt^ASS MOWING. 



(M.M. J=80.) 

-i — ^- 



S 



^ 



S 



t 



s 



J r i -J 



C*lpi 



Hast- en to the meadow, Pfl - ter. Mow the grass, what conid be sweet- cr? 

4^- 






Bring us home the f ra - grant fodder. For the cow, for milk and but - ter. Cow is in the 



^^^tii^ i# T77 l f ^ ^ ; 1^^^ 



bam - yard straying, Milk bar now. with - ont de - lay - Ing; Cow the good rich milk is giv - ing. 




f p^^^i^k ^ ^^ ^H^mf ^ 



Milk and bread are ba 



by's liv - ing ; Let as grate- fnl be for la - bors, Bring -ing ns 



W^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 



ma - nj fa- vers; Let us grate- ful 



for la - bors. Bringing ns so ma - ny fa - vors. 



-<?;* — •- 
•^-^ — - 



5Sg 



f^ 



^-i- 



^ 



^ 



^ 



1^ 



Hast -en (o the meadow, Pe- ter. Mow the grass, what can be sweeter? Thank thee, Pe- ter, 



i 



^ 



IE? 



Y 



SB 



TT" 



=S 



S 



^■M 



^ 



for iiic mowing, Thank the cow, the milk be -stow -ing, for the milking thank our Mol - ly 



-Mf- 



^T=5= 



&^M 



Ba-ker for the rolls so ]0l-ly, For the supper thank mamma, So no thanks for -got- ten are. 



BECKON TO THE CHICKENSl 



7G.) 



fe 



^r=T 



i 



& 



m 



the 



^ 



Come, dear citick - ens, 



and 



Beck • OD 



chick-ens smaUi 



one 



aU! 



PLAY WITH THE LIMBS. 



(m.m. J=120.) 



^ 



^ 



S^i 



How the lit - tie limbs fly out. 



i, r: ■^- ^=^=^-=^ 



=t^=+^ 



Tos - siug, rol - lick - in? ail a • bout ! 



m 



iEfefeEiS 



« 1 1 J— —4 



i=t=S— jy±=l 



S 






Thus they gain their health and strength. Stamp the flax seed out at length. To 



^1^ 



3^ 



=p^*= 



=t 



i^^ 



make the oil so clear and bright. That feeds the pret - ty lamp all night, Wher« 




moth - er's love bums still and clear, While watch - ing o'er he'; child so dear 



^Ul 



FALLING, FALLING! 



(m. M. J=12G.) 



m 



?? 



nS~ 



pa 



s 



■it 



Down he goes, now fall - ing, fall 



Cp he springs at moth • er's 



:|: 



^ 



^ 



^ 



i 



^■^ 



Hl 



call 



iflg, Laughs he now in frol - ic glee. Laughs so safe - ly there JH 

4- 



I — r 



^z 



-^^-- 



^ 



::q: 



Ue, 



Sure 



he knows no harm 



r- ^ ^ I r >. H J . r FJ==^ 



falls him, While his lev - ing moth - er 



^=9^ 



3E 






^ 



calls him, Down he goes, now fall ing, fall - ing 



^ 



-J^— 14-? 



Op be springs at mother's 

i^-> \ - ^ g ^ 



^^^^^m 



call - ing. Soul and bod - y thus on - folding, Moth -er's love Ls ev • er monidins 

90 



Birds of Passas'e. 



Voice. 



Pianoforte. 



Allesrrello. 



;/ri li |Uipr p-^^'J-p ! ■' ^ulM 



1. Says bir-die: we-tt-e, ^ve-te^', wi'-tie,we - tee - tee, 

2. Sitjs La -by: we-tee, we-tee, we-tee, we - tee - tee, 

3. Says bir-die: we_tee, we-tee, we-tee, we- tee - tee, 

4. Says ba _ b}': we-tee, we-tee, we-tee, we - tee - tee. 



Come ba - by witU 

O wlitu will it 

Till tb('!i tbiuk of 

TLeu 111 -0 with 









^ 



^ 



f 



^ 



^m 



^ 



* 



^ 



m 



f/ r ^ p 1 ^"''' r ^'' 1 ^- '^ 1-' .^> J' > 1^- ^ 



mel 
be? 



To 

For 



dis - tant lands we'll 
I am iiiiicb too 



Wben springtime comes a 



go, 
small 
gain 
faiu 



AMiiTe fair-est flow-ers blow. 

I fear it will be long 

I'll bov-er oer the plain 

Till we shall meet a - gain. 



Come 

Ere 

And 

Dear 




f Jf ^ J' J> |J, ^ i rj- jrrt a 



m 



JL 



^ 



s 



1. l)a - . by with nie, 

2. I grow big aud strouj 

3. slug a - gain, we - tee, 

4. bir - die, we - tee, 



Come ba _ _ by with me Come ba - \i^ we-tee 

Till then it cailt be Dear bir- die: we-tee 

Come ba - -by with me Come ba _ \i^ we-tee 

Dear bir - - die, we - tee. Dear bir - die; we-tee 



1. we - tee, we - tee, we - tee - tee, Come ba - by nitb 

2. we _ tee, we - tee, we - tee - tee, Till then it caift 

3. we _ tue, we - tee, we - tee - tee, Come ba - l)y with 

4. we, - tee, we - tee, we - tee - tee, Tbi-u Til go with 



Morning'-Prayer. 



me! 
be! 
mel 
theel 




Voice. 



Pianoforte. 



Andante 

-IL 




1. Great God iu Heaveu,"Wbo bv my bed, Thy faith -ful watch didst 

2. I thaukThue Lord, and Fath-er mild,Aiid all Tbiue . au - gels 




1. keep; And nights best bles-sings o'er me shed, Sweet rest, and bal . my sleep; 
8. too, ^ And pray Thee still to help Tay child Thy ho - ly will to 'do. 




93 



THE MORNING BRIGHT. 



^ 



;*^E^ 



^=r 



T 



■ jzi d 



ici: 



^^- 



Y 



i 



=& 



g 



q^ 



~s- 



1. The morn - ing bright with ro - sy light Has wak'd me from my sleep, 




^ 



-C: 



3i: 



:^ 



ES^S 



:^ 



T" 



^^ 



ther, 



r 1 ■ r I r r r^T ■- 

I own Thy love a - lone Thy lit - tie one doth keep. 

=a_^J l__|- 1 I .. .1 . rJ J 



^ 



^ 



f" p T 



^ 



-r- 



All through the day, 

1 humbly pray, 

Be Thou my Guard, and Guide, 

My sins forgive. 

And let me live, 

Blest Jesus, near Thy side. 



3. 
Oh make Thy rest 
Within my breast, 
Great Spirit of all Grace. 
Make me like Thee, 
Then shall 1 be 
Prepar'd to see Thy face. 



LET US WITH A GLADSOME MIND. 




:^ 



3^^3t 



E^ 



1. Let us with a glad -some mind, Praise the Lord for 



-ttn,, p fi 



He is kmd, 



I 



a'T i t 



^ 



T3= 




2. 

Children, come extol His might. 
Join with saints and angels bright, 
For His mercies, &c. 



All our wants He doth supply. 
Loves to hear our humble cry. 
For His mercies, &c. 



94 



All things living He doth feed. 
His full hand supplies their need, 
For His mercies, &c. 



Let us then with gladsome mind, 
Praise the Lord for He is kind. 
For His mercies, Sec 



WIio has the whitest lainbkiiis? 



(lliirriiuiiiii \mi FallPr>lrbrii,) 



Andantino. 



poco r'find. ^^ a tempo 



Voice. 



Pianoforte. 



^'''i ) i j> j' i'- h\0 : j i 1 ^' J' ji J' I J, j 



l.Wlio has the wlii-test lamb-kius'.' Look up in - to tlic sky! It 



^ 



^ 



P 



J J J. j ^^^ ^^ 



;;flr« p/rtr^. " '''"'/^^ 



^flrfl ir 



r^ »- 



t 7 P 



^ 



^ 



» • r 



<^*'' ^ j> .'' ; I .^J r p I ^'' J'^ ^'' I J, 1 1 .^ ji '•' p I r p ^' 



Lis flif iuuoii,tbe dar - liugjWhosu Lome is up on iiigh. She ris-es iu tlie ev'.uiu;,'Wbi'ii 




riten. 



I.all else fH ill would sleep; Comes from her litt.le cot. tageAud calls Ler lit- tie sbeep 



a tempo 



_. ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ _^ ^ J ^ , . ^ ^ — ^ 

2. Slie calls them out to pas. ture u . puu her mea.4o\v9 gay^ Thu stars are her white 

3. And should you get a laiub-kiu, To p!ay with and ca - ress, LLku it be good and 

a teinp<j 





Z. hiiul) - kins, Aud nev . er seen by day. Like sis - ter and like broth - er Arc 
3. geii - tic, And like its shep-her - dess. Aud should you get a lamb-kiu, To 



i 



g mm 



1 



m 



r' tj ' I 



i 9 i - r 



g 



^ 



/!f 



I f I £ 



p LJ 



SE 



i 



^^ 



^^ 



f^i^:::- i r?i' f 



r/yi°//. - 



E 



tt- 



2. all the stars on high; They dear-ly love each oth - er,.And ueith-er fight uor cry. 

3. play with and ca - ^-ess^ Like it be good and gen - tie And like its shep.her doss. 




97 



Mareliing song. 

(Fr.l.ll.l.) 



Voice. 



Pianoforte. 



Tt-nipocomodo. ., 



4p=i 



^^ 



J ' & ■ i ~- 



< ' * J' 



=F=F 



I c 



il 



^ 






^ 



Diug (loug couif a - luii^', Hrifsuiir La - by (iaiii-iug: 



r 



M 



^s 



r^-^ 



r^* 



^ 



T 



S 



r 



a 

^*5 



j/ r J I J. J. J i ,uLiJ' i j;7ir,i.;.'i:;j i :. ^ ^ 



• ' * — * — ^-* ■ ^y — *~^ r-nr — 

Diug doug coiUfH - loug, H»irsOiiiba-b)' diiuciug. Play a pnt-ty tuucto-day Fraukaudllairj, 



V > 1 



^ 



^ 



w * • 



=^t« 



Eat 



:tt^ 



— 9-^-9 



^ 



y 



^ 



g 




Kaffaud.May Fraukaml Hai-ry, Kate aud May Mir- li - ly an- dam-iiig. Diug d(j 




couiu a - loug, loiiii' H - loug,. tome H - loug, Here's our Ija-ly daui-iii;. 



>--»..^'f- 



Wbeu the l)ass plays browm,hrowTuJbrowiu, W'c go skipp-iug up aud dtiwu, We go skipp-uj^ 




V vv] I j,^'' ;. J' l J ;H'r li jm.U'J' J I J'- j,js; 



' * ' • '■■ '• • ' ■ • — r 

up i\ud (low u, Frocks aud curls are fly-iug. Fid-die, he plays did-dlcdumdce, \ow go ligLf ly, 




^ '-^ I J I J) j"|j' J' i .^'iJ' J N'fl r M r 



m 



j=^^ 



^ 



one, two, three, Now go lightly, one, t\vo,three, Soft in grass were Iv . iug. Ding doi 



$ 



^^ 



i 



^ 



j i '• if ■ f 



=*=^ 



T=f 



ita 



^S: 



^ 



P 



^^ 



f" ; J. J I }: ; ^j, J I J F -• ^^ 



coiue a . long, ffirura - long, toinu a - long, Here's our Ija-hy daui-iu^ 




99 



Playing together- 



popular Air, 




glee ; If a - lone we were playing, How dull we should be. 

2. 
Do you hear by the sound, 

Who is gone from the gaine ? 
After hst'ning all round, 

Tell the missing one's name. 

A. B. 

The children either sit on their forms or stand in a circle. One child 
is blindfolded and placed in the centre. Whe7i the song has begun, the 
teacher beckons to a second child, tcho comes forioard and stands near the 
first. Between the 1st and 2nd verses the second child utters a musical 
sound. The circle noio sing the 2nd verse, at the end of nhich the fust 
child has to guess which of the others came out. 



(jerman Melody, 

*£E.E 




here ; Gild - ing the heavens the sun- beams ap - pear. 

2. 

Songs of thanksgiving arise in the air ; 
Blossoms theu' beauty and perfume prepare 

3. 
Dewdrops like diamonds flash on the grass 
Bees in the meadows all hum as they pass. 

4. 
Nature awaketh to gladden om- heart. 
For in her joyfulhess all take a part. 

TOO 



Equal Measure. 



German Air. 



fe 



^-(^—r^ 



r=± 



Our 



:i4— 3: 



fa 



We 



ces bright with plea • sure, 

* P— #— ^ » — ^ P 



:i^:p: 



-t^=i^ 



step with e - qual mea-sure, La la la la la la la la 






^=^ — ^-* : 



-i^— ^- 



-6^=^ 



:^=t: 



p- -^ 



^! 



la la la la, La la la la la la la la la- 



Thus hand in hand our ring 
Shall dance and gently sing 

La, la. la. 



A. B. 



TTie children move round in a circle to the right and left alternately^ 
stepping in strict time to the song. When the number of children is very 
large, they may he placed in tivo circles, the outer and inner moving in 
opposite directions^ 



The Bees. 



1st to 4th. 



Austrian Melody. 



^tlE^; 



tr 



--^^=^- 



i\- 



^- 



Hum, hum, hum; 



lit - tie bees say, "hum." 



r*P^ 



:s: 



nrv 



^ — m- 






=x=>- 



ii^zzttipzt 



' s • 

Fear us not, but fly together O'er the pleasant wood and heatner, 



^t: 



:?i;=4^ 



T^=^ 



]v 



^1 



Hum, hum, hum , lit - tie bees hum, hum. 

lOI 



The Circle. 






EiNER. 



^^mm 



We help to form the cir-cle here. Make haste and find your 



3: 






» 2, — • ' 

place, my dear; A - bove yom- head your hands must be, And 



when I 



clap, run 



af - ter me ; A ^ bove your head your 






::^: 



:::]:=a: 



iipnyi 



hands must be, And when I clap, run af - ter me% 
All the children but one stnnd close in a circle, and begin singing^ 
their hands behind them. At the words '• above your heads,'' their hands 
are raised. The child left outside has been moving round, and at " ulten 
I clap,'" touches one of his companions. Both children run in opposite 
directions round the outside of the ring, trying ivhich can first reach the 
vacant place. The unsuccessful one stays out for the next round. 



O eyes that open. 



i^ 



Popular Melody. 



:-^ir^ 



^ — r s-J : 



ii^^zizfs 



£3^ 



eyes that o - pen to the light, Look straight to 



--&E^ 



1^ 



zq: 



^^ — N— Ps 



1 ^—^.z=:^ 



Heav'n with glances bright, And beam out thanks to God a 



I 



:|^ 






-b-^— < 



bove That Hehas blessed us with His love, And beam out 



^^^ m 



i^fir^l 



::fc=(5: 



iz3^ 



thanks to God a - bove That He has blessed us with His love- 

I02 



little bands be quick to sbare 

Tbe praise, and fold yx)urselves in prayer. 

An infant's prayer must ever rise, 

A grateful incense to tbe skies. 

Httle mind, so weak, distraugbt, 
CJioose tbou for subjsct of tby thougbt 



Tbe loving God, wbo tbrougb tbe night 
Has kept His bttle cbild in sigbt. 

Open, bttle bps, proclaim 
Tbe Father's love, and bless Ilis name. 
And tben a glad •' good morning " sound 
To all tbe dear companions round. 



Birds among the Green^A^ood. 



Anselm "Weber. 




Birds a- mong the green- wood, Sing so full and 




~i- 



green - wood, 

la la la la la la 
1 2nd time. 



-P-^- 



m 



la, La la 



2. 



Birds among the gi'eenwood 
Build theii' httle nest ; 

Leave it in the gi'eenwood 
Ready for their rest. 

La la la, la la la, &c. 



la. 



Birds among the greenwood 
Sing themselves to sleep, 
Slumber in the greenwood 
Must he sweet and deep. 
La la la, la la la, &c. 
A. B. 



Some of ill e children re/prcseni trees. They stand in a ring with 
their arms vjj to form houghs. Four others chosen to tnahe the nests 
stoop down two and two inside the ring holding hands. 1st verse. 
Four or Jive more represent birds andfiy in and out among the trees, 
moving their arms lijce wings. 27id verse. The birds arc flying to 
ayid from their nests piching up materials for building* 'ord verse. 
The birds enter their nests and sing themselves to sleep. 



lO- 



Cradle Song. 



^ 



4SZ.:: 



-^ 



Sleep, ba - by, sleep, In slum - ber sweet and 



:^^=1' 



i azzi 



i=:=f;2: 



ti^ — ' / -=^ 



deep, While mo - ther plies her nee - die, dear, And 



— 1- 



:=N=i^: 



^ 



sits be - side your era - die here. Sleep, ba - by, sleep I 



Sleep, baby, sleep. The shepherds fold their sheep. 
Young birds are 'neath their mothers' wing 
And I alone am left to sing. 

Sleep, baby, sleep. 

3. 

Sleep, baby, sleep- The fleecy cloudlets creep 
Across the moon to float in space 
And hghtly shade yom* placid face. 

Sleep, baby, sle'^p. 

4. 
Sleep, baby, sleep. How tranquilly you sleep I 
A passing snoile is on your chftek 
Perhaps you dream iliat you can speak. 
Sleep, baby, sleep. 



Farewell to Winter. 






j^ 



^ 



e 



t: 




Winter, farewell ! gone is your spell. Late are you leavmg ns, 

^ 1 R- 



izz*: 



r#— # 



:=ir-^?:2 



"T?" 



Yet without grieving ua. Winter, fare-weil I gone is your spell. 

104 



The Mill-race. 



-^ 



^$3s: 



i^bz- 



=l^5iz-rzz3 



^^=i 



See how the stream-let scam-pers And leaps a - down the 



hill, 



— ^s. 



-A- 



=4: 



-'^•-r 



'Tis he who lifts the stamp -• ers Ol" 



-^E^ 



=^ 






iN^: 



yon - der full - ing mill, 



^^m. 



7^—-A'- 



l!s:x 



Chp clap. 



clip 



— ^^ 



clap, clip olap, chp clap chp clap. 

E. H. N. 
The children move in a circle and mark the time with their feet. At 
" Clip clap,'' they clap their hands. The game should be played thrice 
each time faster than before. ' 



The Windmill. 






itzlzi 



Iztz; 









See the mill how well it goes, While the 

-J i-4— ^- 



zar 
4=; 



W=-* — r- 



q:=i 



wind so stead - y blows, Eound and round, and 

~¥-i— * — ^- 



-^-t:==: 



^i^^[3^ll 



ne - ver still Goes the twirl-ing, twist-ing mill. 

2, 

Lively breeze is our dehght, 
Then our sails are taut and tight ; 
Merrily time slips away 
Oh, we are so brisk and gay. 

E. H. N. 
lour, eight, or twelve children form a cross which turns round on its 
ax\s. The 1st verse should be sung shwly, the ^xd quickly. 




I Ijab n IMt §mU' 



i 



Andante non troppo. 



^^^ 



^ 



^ ^ fe ^ » N ^ 



W'^^\^ 



5 



J^ J^ J- J ±Zj^ 



1 had a lit - tie dog^gy that used to sit and beg, But 





-fe— ^ ft ft : 



:$=fe: 



P 



- ^— ft- 



^tr 



^ f i ^ d—^'- 



ner rd d H i 



* JV*> 



g! g feg ^—P^ 



Doggy tumbled down the stairs, and broke his lit-tle leg; Oh! Doggy, I will nurse you, and 




io6 



li--ja-» 



fejfejg^ 



I HAD A LITTLE DOGGY. 



*i n j: 



m 



j" #>> fi ^^ 



a tempo. 



^ 



try to make you well; Aad you shall have a collar with a pret-tv lit-tle bell. 





Second and Third Verses. 



^1 J^ J 



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1 



Ah! Dog -gy, don't you think you should ve - ry faith -ful be, For 
But, Dog -gy, you must pro -mise (and mind vour word you keep) Not 



i 



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Lav-ing such a lov-ing friend to comfort you as me. And when your leg is bet - ter, and 
once to teaze the Ut-tle Iambs, or run among the sheep. And then the yel-low "chicks," that 




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a tempo. 



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you can run and play, We'll have a scamper in the fields, and see them making hay. 
play up-on the grass. You must not e-ven wag your tail to scare them as you pass. 

-m — F — I 4 1 1 — 




107 



A NURSERY SONG. 



No, 54. 




Arranged hj L. W. 



s^n 



j^- 



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mi 



1. Where do 

2. Where do 

3. Where do 



all 
all 
all 



the 
the 
the 



dal - files gof 
bird • les go? 
ba • bies go? 



I know, I 

I know, I 

I know, I 



•^ -^ •*- -w- ^ S- -^ 



know I 
know I 
knowl 



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rrft 



d!5=|t 



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:P=i!: 



'-9 — m-- 



Un der-neath the snow they creep, Nod theit lit - tie heads and sleep; 
Far a • way from wia - ter snow, To the fair, warm South they go, 
In the glanc-ing fire - light warm, Safe ly shel - ter'd from all barm. 



S^ 






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iz^zitr;^: 



In the Spring-time out they peep; 
There they stay till dai-sies blow; 
Soft they lie on moth-er's arm; 



That is 
That is 
That is 



where they 
where they 
where they 




Copyright, 1831, by Ouveb Ditsox ft Co. 

io8 



A NURSERY SONG. Concluded. 



it 



:ff=pi 






|] 



In the Spring-time out they peep; 
There they stay till dai - sies blow; 
Soft they lie on moth-er's arm; 



That 18 where- ttiey go. 
That Is where they go. 
That is where they go. 




THIS IS THE WAY THE SNOW COMES DOWN. 



fcn 



8^^ 



:?i-td^ 



W. W. Gilchrist. 



JitzMi 



^=:ir- 



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*=^=^- 



This is the way the snow comes down. Soft - ly, soft - ly fall 



iDg; 



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f^=5b==^Fi== 



* ■»• ^^' ^==^ — - — 



)ig fir ^ . - 



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So He giv-eth his snow like wool. Fair and white and beaa • ti - ful; 



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This is the wav the snow comes down. Soft • ly, soft - ly fall 



ing. 



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^^g-f^l^r=-=H ^^^ 



109 



NOW THE DAY IS OVER. 



I 



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1 Now the day 



r I 

ver, Night is draw 



niffh. 






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-J J J i Hb— 4 



I 



-* :5t- 

cross the 



Sha - dow3 of 



the 



ev - ninn 



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<^ tiJ ^ b J 



Steal 

— r^ 



skv. 



^^* 



Now the darkness gathers, 

Stars begin to peep ; 
Birds, and ))easts, and flowers 

Soon will be asleep. 

3. 

Jesus, give the weary 
Calm and sweet repose ; 

With thy tenderest blessing 
May our eyelids close. * 

4. 

Grant to little children, 
Visions bright of Thee ; 

Guard the sailors, tossing 
On the deep blue sea. 



Comfort every suff'rer 
Watching late in pain. 

Those who plan some evil 
From their sin restrain. 

6. 

Through the long night-watches, 
May thine angels spread 

Their white wings above me, 
Watching round my bed. 

7. 
When the morning wakens, 

Then may I arise 
Pure, and fresh, and sinless 

In Thy holy eyes. 



LET US HAVU A DRILL TO-DAY. 



t^ 



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1. Let U3 have a 

2. Step-ping all in 

-rr -r ^ r- 



drill to 
time we 



day, 



March a - long in grand ar - ray ; 
Sol- diers mmching in a row ; 



-g- t 8 



3SE 



And who-ev - er 
As we gai - )y 




JL J LJL 



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iar - fg 



a=a= 



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f 



steps the best, 
move a - long', 



Shall be cap -tain 
Sing-ing still our 



o'er the rest ; 
mer - ry song, 



Lead us on our way. 
Mai-ch-ing to and fro.. 




Active feet and ready rhyme. 

Steps and voices well must chime : 

Left foot, right foot, forward all, 
March on, children, great and small, 
March away in time. 



IIO 



In two ranks let us divide, 
March along on either side ; 

And soon marching as before, 
Each his partner has once more, 
Then our drill is o'er. 




Andante noii Iroppo. 
With tenderness. 



I lobe littk f uss^. 




^ 



S J" J" r~g 



I love lit - tie Pus -. sy, her coat is so warm, And 



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^ 



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J J. J j> J J- 1 ;- ^_^-^ -^^^j^^ ^_^.'^ 



I don't hurt her, she'll do me no harm. I'll sit by the fire and 

ten. 



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-*- TT 



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■f. 



«sr 



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dim. e ritard. 



~s — r 



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J u* 



s 



^ 



:i^ — ^iT _ 

give her some food, And Pus - sy will love me, be - cause I am good, 



S^ 



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3 



^^=^ 



M 



PP 



1 J^ 1 1 I / 1 






1 1 1 



FLOWERS. 



Brightly, 



^=T=?s1- 



ffi 



^^ 



1. Buds anil bells 1 Sweet A - pril pleas- urea, 
8. Then be gives the pleas-ant wea-ther, 









-I 1- 



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* — t=n-^^<^ 



:2i: 



1^=*: 



^±L-U-V:gMef^^:zM-- 



-m 



spring- ing all a - round, 
sun - shine warm and free,.. 



White and gold and crim- son treas- ures, 
Mak - ing all things glad to - geth - er. 



.-fO- 




From the cold, un - love - ly groundl 
Kind to them, and kind to me. 



He who gave them grace and hue. 
Love - ly flow'rs. He lov - eth you. 



i?:^*^: 






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Iff- 



lf-^=. 



:pzrp 



HS] 



a=i: 



Made 
And 



the lit 
the lit 



tie chil - dren too! 
tie chil - dren too! 







112 



FLOWERS. Concluded. 








tz^izi 



i^=5: 



-=1-S— 






:=fc: 



'-»- 



Strength and fresh-ness God sup -plies. He who sends the f?en - tie dew, 

Si • lent songs of word less praise, Hears your an - them sweet and true, 








NOW THE TIME HAS COME FOR PLAY 



I^E 



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-w^ ^-. 



Now the time haa come for play, Let the lead - el^ show the way. 



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Head e - rect and down the hands, Each be - hind the o ther stands. 

r- f 



m=^: \ ^ ^+ J ^ I r rt^jH-pg^ ^ 



WHEN THE MORNING SUN SO BRIGHT. 



r^-t;- £^'j-t^ 



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When the morn - ing sun so bright, La, la, la, la, la, la, Sheds on us its 



Wf^= 7 




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M r 



bril-liant light. La, la, la, la, la, 



Then we rise from sleep and drean, 




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3t==s: 



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:4i2=52: 



Watch with joj the gold -en beam, La, la, la, la, la, la, la. La, la, la, 




^0 



it 



^J I J ; JLJl^g ; r I t Jc g l ' 



la, la, la, atch V^ith joy the gold - en beam, 
-^ . -*- 



La, la, la, la, la 



I.. n. L. d 




EQUAL TREADING 

t. a. L. 



^^ 



tread - ing, 



qual 



step - piuR. We 



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-« 1 — ^ 




^ 



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t^ — -i 



dance and sing, all 



a ring, Hap 



py 



we dance and sing, 



m 



^ 




WE BIRDS ARE HAPPY. 

4 1_^ 1 .-^— 4- 




1. We birds are Lap-py all day long, With fly - ing, hop -ping, sing - ing-l dj .^1 - 

2. And all can hear our joy-ful song, Thro' field and for - est ring - ing.j 




8. 

We're full of health and free from c&re> 
To eat we're always able ; 

Didlrallala, &c. 
4. 
For as we're flying — everywhere 
We find a well-spread table. 
Didirallala, &c. 



5, 
And when our daily work is done| 
We rest in cool green bowers ; 
Didirallala, &c. 
6. 
We sleep in peace, and everyone 
Dreams o'er our happy hours. 
Didirallala. &c. 



II 



RIPPLING, PURLING UTILE RIVER. 



W. W. GlLCHBIST. 



I 



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Eip - plLog, pnrl - Ing lit -- tie riv - cr, Al - waya flow - tog 

-i ft h fc . k^ fe 1^ 



-Q- 3 — p — P — Pt — -», — f^ — p — p, — ^ — p — *, — p^ 



i^ 



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•^■4t J •^^ 



:iy-rir 



zsdz 



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rst 



-f*, r^= ^ 



^ J «^ 



bast • 'ning odI 



See the spark • ling, ell • ver rip - plet. 



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f "^ ^"^ Z Z If "^ "C" 



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N 



As they vaa - ish, one by 



one; 



Down tbe hill • side. 



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3=:«t=:^»r:r_- 



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^^^^ 



7\. 



S 



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thro' the val • ley, Slid - Ing soft • ly, murm - 'ring low,. 

_P TL 



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RIPPLING, PURLING LITTLE RIVER. Concluded. 



rali. 






=t=1=q=r— =:^— 



t>~^z=^ 



I — '— ' 






=?=- 



:t 



Wat- 'ring flow- ers, turn- ing mill wheels, Olr • ing joy wher - e'er you go. 

* — g — g — g-F -* — S— f— g 



ps_j,, — h — ^.^ — ^^tf! (S_ 







a tempo. 



=^ 



^-q-!1 






i^=^ 



Down the hill • elde. thro' the val - ley Slid - ing soft • ly, 



f^— =1— fl— =1— i— =1— ^— spa!- 
a tempo. 



^ -^ -J -j^r ^ ^ ^^> -N 



r*'T-'-f •'iT-'"?-^ if-'ir-^" 



@ 



^5ES 






^^E^E 



ztz 



^ife 



h— jj — ^— I — I — 



It! 



murm - 'ring low, 



]J^ ^ 1 U > U U' i 



Wat - 'ring flow - ers, turn - ing mill - wheels, 

V P! f^^ ^5 ^r- fL - ^ ^ 



E-^= 



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r ^ -f ^ F 



I 



P 



■^S:-- 






T=^- 



Giv • Ing joy wher- e'er you 



go. 






-ft — ^- 



-i9 •*— » 1 N 1 1 1 — I P 13 « — , — I ri 




117 



EVENING PRAYER. 



S=i 



QuUtly. 







L^id^nzzfc 



/ 



-a* ** J- 



li« - ten while I pray, 
bas been wrong to - day,- 



Ask 
Help 



ing Thee to watch and 
me ev - -'ry day to 




m 



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\^ 




EVENING PRAYER. Concluded. 



m 






p 



m 



-m-m- 



f=S= 



:S=S: 



-ri- 



3. Let my near and dear ones be,,. 

4. Now my ev' - ning prai:je I gi^'e. 



Al • wayg 
Tbou didst 




^^ 



J3=3= 



^^=3^ 



e~. 



gEt-^^^ 



near and dear to Thee; 
die that I might live,... 



Oh, bring me and all I 

All my bless - ings come from 




13= 



m 



1=2: 



Lfc: 



3^ 



d^ 



S 



IT 



lovo,. 
Thee, 



To 
Oh, 



Thy hap - py home s • bove. 
hovr good Thou art to met 



119 




THE MILL BY THE RIVULET. 

s is ^ _^ ' ^ > * > * I — ^ 



-^ ' J. .ji. i s # ' * - 9 ,J/ • ' * ^ ' J ^ < ii ^ ^ 

1. The mill by the riv - u - let ev - er-more sounds, Clip, clap, By day and by night goes the 




miU-er hi8 rounds, Clip, clap He pi'inds us the corn to make Hour- ish • in* bread, And 

N S K Is S N 




when vre have that we are daia-ti - ly fed, Clip, clap, clip, clap, clip, clap. 




The wheel quickly turns, and then round goes the stone, 

A J . , . C^Pi clapi 

And grinds up the corn which the farmer ias sown, 

►p. V 1 1- t ^''P' ^^*P» 

The baker then bakes us fine biscuits and cake. 

Oh, darling good baker, such nice things to make, 

Clip, clap. 



And when the rich harvest is safely got in, 

Clip, clap, 

Then quickly the sounds of the mill- wheel begin. 

Clip, clap, 

And tell me, dear children, what more need ye want/ 

So long as good bread our kind Father will grant ? 

La, la. 



m 



MY BALL IS VERY SOFT. 



^ 



f=ni 



f 



*• "■# 



My ball is ve - ry soft and round, I roll it gen -tly on the ground. And 



^ I J ' \ r gj 



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m 



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^ 



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some-times, toss - ing it 



i 



on high, To catch it with one hand I try. 



Ij ^'Ij g 



^ 



120 



IF WISHES WERE HORSES. 



W. E. C. Seeboeck. 



^ir^^#g^^g=B-E#fe^E^g^ 



'latz:^. 



^ 



1. If wish-es were horses, dear-ie. How fast, and how far we'd ride,.... On our 

2. And in- to the lives we cher-ish, To brighten their clouded skies,.... Bringing 



— 1 — • « « — * — «i — «| — Q ^ — ad— -i — t--j — l^^ ^^ 



—I — ^ 



a^i^ 



gE^5il^%";gEp^E;^gj^g^^ ^^^^ ^^ 



be*Ti • ti - ful, snow-white chargers, And bounding vith life and pride, 
smiles to the sweet, pale fa - ces, And light to the sad - den'd eyes. To 



^^^^^m 



s= 



^ 



^ 



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& 



pz- J f U^^ . 






^ 



:2iff=l 



Straight as the flight of an ar - row, 
bring them a message of comfort. 



S^%-±r 



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:^=P k- 



-n_(«- 



±z:Jz 



And swift as the flash of a spear,.;.. We'd 
And whisper a word of cheer,.... Oh, 




| ^k=^^r ^^=g^^g 



$^ 



'^^-m-^ 



>-LA^J J L-4: 



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^^ 



trav - el for ev - er and ev - er, 
how we would gal - lop and gal-lop. 



If wishes were hors - es, dear- 
If wishes were hors - es, dear. 




Copyright, 18S4, by Oliver Ditson & Co. 

121 



Christnias-song-. 



(PopuJar.) 



Voice. 


Modtralo. 


=^ 


^=^ 


— ^ ^ f — 




^ — T — 1 


1. Ye shep - herds a - 
2.Coiiie siujc-iu?: gay 

:^^ — K ■ J 1 =^ 


J- * 

rise,_ 
psahus 


-^J — Ji- 

Hud 
with 

-1 \ 


shout to the 
pipes and with 


skies! 
shaliiis,. 


The 
Aud 

* c — 


Pianoforte. < 




/ 

Lf r 1 


J 




-f 








1. au - gels are wiug _ ing 

2. come to the man - ger, 



their way _ here and siug-iugj Sal - va - tion is 
to wil - come the stranger, AMjo, l)Oru in a 




-i- !• J' I j. I I ^ 



1. Deapj. 

2. stall,. 



the Sa-viour is here, 
is Lord - rer all. 




122 



i 



^ / 



1^ 



^ 



^ 



3. As soon 

4. They kufW 



as this word, 
Hiiu, the mild,. 



the 
the 




Mj y^^ i jr^ m 






3..>-h(p - - herds had heard, 
4. hea • - veu . ly Child, 



They souglit the ap - poiu-ted, the Lord the A 
Aud fell down be - fore Him all meek, to a 




I nj .^ 



/ 



f'- kr~n J. 



J > J' li 



3. iioiu-tedj And found in a stall, the Sa - vioiir of all. 

4. dorcHim; And praised Hiui in psalms, with pipes and with shalius. 




l2-\ 



Rataplan. 



Voice. 



Pianoforte. 



Tempo di Marcla. 





I.March like gal - lant sol - diiTS, ra . ta . plan, ra - ta.plau, ra - ta-plau, plan, plan. 
2. March like gal - lant $ol - dirrs, ra - ta . plan, ra - ta.plan, r;v - ta - plan, plan, plan. 
3. March lite gal - lant sol _ diers, ra - ta - plan, ra - ta-plan, ra . ta-pIau, plan, plan. 




^- ^^ i> A > > 



tor mau; 



I) ^' J J 



^m 



^ 



t. Bold - ly for - wards man 

2. I'll be lieu - fe - naut 

3. Take good heed, keep step 



Lite g'al . laut 
veil drill 
(binff bold - 



day; 
pray, 



march 

and 

mar 



rch Like g'al . laut sol 



our 



f 

- diers: 

- diers: 
ou - wards. 



■Hn> ii ii 1. } J* J) I > }i ii 1. i Ji T ji J* 



ri J ' i' ;> J' i' T. J' ^ J I > J J' /' i i' J ; ^ 



7 F P M 

l-3.Rrrr, ra -ta-pl;iu, How our plumes are daue-iug; 



7 7 f 7 7 

Ra-ta-plau, .\u(l our wm-strcds piaunu^; 




^ ^ y r -^ 

ra.ta - plau,. ra - ta-pl;iu, plaii, pluu, 



ra - ta - plau, ra - ta-plan, plan, pku, 



t 



n n r 



r-fi -n-y . 



^^ 




\$ 



See our sa - bres glauc - iug, ra - ta - plau, ra - ta - plau, 



M K J p r 



m 






Lif f f 



^ 



f 



^^ 



ra - ta-plan. 



/ 



% ' !'! 



^ 



12' 



Andantino. 



Snow^vhite. 

lJ.iliu>Muiii.'> 
. -, 1 



Toice. 



Pianoforte. 



Fair Suow-white do wu in th e gli*",— With tbe stvn w<;e 




, Makes se.veu beds vvitb ber uim.ble baud, Aud strews tbe cbauiber with 




gol.deu saiid. Fair Suow .white dowu in the glt^u? 



With tbe sevn^ wee 




lueiT. Tbe fire she now niust kin. die, Aud sweep aud turu tbe spiu. die; Then 




5 K h - K 


k . - 


>r.- -. k K 




\ 1>^ 


1 


1 


k k r 


r-- 1 


. ^^^ -"k k , 


^ j^ s j^ -r-i :■ ;^ 


^; N 

— •- « 


r" ,^' J) b II ;i f J ^' — ?>-iH 


set each lit . 


tie dish, Stir tbe 
k • " i» 


60 


lip aud 

V 

* — 


fry 


the fish. Fair 

--i — # — e — 


Suowwh 


te down io tbe. 


P ^ bad i 

Tr-« P ^ 


f 




« 1 « r— 


^^=^ 


.-in-3 


^•-l.r.i 


,.,f , 1 




:=] 


h=^=^==^=^==^ 


=>' r J — J i 



gl.ll, 



With t'le sevU wee iiieu lu \va . ter clear she 




rius.es soon. Each knife and fork and each lit -tie spoon-.Fair Snowwtite down iu the 

^ k ^ r 




gleu,_ With, the sevu wee men. From out the cup. board ol.deu, She 




takes the wiuecups golden; Then sets each lit .tie chair Neatly round the ta -blc there.Tlius 




Suow.white dowi in the 
— t 



eu,-» Lives with the sevu wee men, Un 



til tbe roy . al prime shall come To raise her to his goLdeu throue. Fair 




Allfgrfllo 



The Violet. 



Voice. 



Pianoforte. 



g^'i r \ r-t^ • 1 ^ J' : 1/ i' J- 1-' 



1. oil Yio - let! dar - liiij; Yio . lit! I pray thee tell to 

2. Be - cause I am .60 ti iiv; Tliiit is the rea - sou 




^ 



^ 



E 



^ 



J' I J J' i- }' 



±=n: 



W 



^ 



1. lUf, 

2. why. 



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^\ by ait thou the first flowr - tt Tiiiit blooius u - pon the Ira? 
AVcre oth - er flow. era ueai- iik. You all would pass lue by. 



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128 



Barcarole. 



Andantino. 



I^oice 




t^anoforte. 



saw a i^hip a sail, ia^, a sail.in^onlhe soa, and it vas full of 
four andtwenty sai . \od-, a skippingon tie deck andtheywere-whiteand 



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pret.ty things for ba . by and for me, 
pret.^ mice 'vdtli rin^s a. bout the neck 



tluTc ■Were 
and the 



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rai - sins in the ca - bin. su.gared kis - ses in the bold and the sails were made of 
cap . tain "wxis a duck i»itli a ja . cket on his back, wlien the ship began to 




eilk and the mapts ■were made of gold 
eailcried the cap- tain quack quack .(^ack,^uack 



There v lie 



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UP YONDER MOUNTAIN. 



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Andantino. 



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1. Up yon - der on the mountain, Tberc stands a bouse so high; And 

2. Had I the wild dove's pin - ions, I'd fly thro' all the land To 

3. A pret - ty house I'd build dip. All of the clo - ver ?rcen; I'd 



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tur-tle doves do fly; And 
take him by the band; To 



flow'rs of gold- en sheen; I'd 



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LULLABY. 

TWO-PART SONG. 



Words by A. J. Foxwell. 



TAUBERT. 
Arranged by W. C. E. 




1. Rest, my ba - by, rest! 

2. Sleep, my dar- ling, sleep! 

3. Rest, my ba •■ by fair. 



In thy down - y nest; 
Ou tby slum • her deep; 
Free from ev • 'ry care I 



Hark I the rain is 

May no breath of 

Thro' the wood the 







fall -ing fast, Wind and storm are driv- ing past! Hark ! the dog, with an - gry growling, 
clam -or rude. Pain or trou - bie now in-trude! While the hare, the hun - ter fear - ing, 
pig. eon flies, Seek-ing here and there sup-plies; In the nest her fledgings ly • ing 




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Chides the beggar,homeless prowling; Ilore with peace and comfort blc8t,Rest,my ba-by, rest. 

Tim'rous thro' the grass is peering, Love its watch will o'er thee keep; Sleep,my darling, sleep I 

Wea-d-ly for food are cry-ing; No such sorrows shalt thou share ;Re8t,my ba-by fair! 




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131 



Peace of ms:\it 



(a. Sihenr.^ 



Andante. 



Voice. 



Pianoforte. 



Tbe suu baslougde-par - ted.TLc day to uigbt dolli yiulil; And pcacfjsostillaud 




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I ^'' r '' J I g .'^ > -? I J ^ T I J J' .'•' .^ I ' J- J.' I J ^^^ 



ho - ly.Broods o -vn- house aud field. To wear- ied eye-lids geut - ly The uightbriugs sweetest 



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sleepi And in eachlit-tle thaiu - berGodsau-gehvatthdotb keep. He lulls\vitb soug so 

a fempo 




geu -fie The babe tosWeet re- pose: A- uou the chords are si - leut,The wearied eyelids close. 



The Evening' Star. 

(H'>rm)tBD TUD Fallerslebeo.) 



Andante. 



Voice. 



Pianoforte. 



love - ly bright star, You shine from a . far, Yet 
^ " \ — ~~^ near. Or you _ der or here, I 




dear.ly I love you. Though dis. taut you are! I love your bright eye, As, 

see thatbright eye Shiu.iug kind . ly and clear, And beck . on . ing too From 




beam . ing on high, 
Hea . veu so blue; 



30 kind . ly it looks on me, Do\^u from the sky! 
star of the ev' . ning were I as you! 





Silviinlik, tlninhk, little star. 

Allegretto moderato. 



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Twin-kle, twnn - kle, lit - tie star, How I won - der wliat you 




poco ril. 



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are ! Up a - bore the world so liigli, Like a dia-mond in the eky. 




134 



TWINKLE, TWINKLE, LITTLE STAR. 
Second and Third Verses. 



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When tbe* blaz - ing sun is gone. When he no - thing shines up 
Then thf! traveller in the dark Thanks you for your ti - ny 




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poco nt. 



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on, Then you show your lit • tie light, Twin-kle, twin-kle, all the niglit. 
spark : How could h^ see where to go. If you did not twin-kle so? 




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Fourth and Fifth Verses. 



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set 

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In the dark blue sky you keep. Of - ten through my cur - tains 
As your bright and ti ny spark Lights the traveller in the 




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poco nt. 



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peep, For you ne-vershut your eye. Til? the sun is in the sky. 
dark, Though I know not what you are. Twinkle, twin-kle, lit - tie star. 




135 



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Muderalo e marcato. 



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r\'iDeteea birds and one bird more, Just make twenty, and that's a score. 



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Second Verse. 



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the score then add but one: That vviU make just twen - ty - one, 

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3, Now add two, and you will see o. Then three more, if you have time ; 
You have made up twenty-three. Now you've got to twenty-mne. 

4. If you like these clever tricks, 6. Twenty-nine now quickly take- 
Add three moreibr twentY-six. Add one more and Thirty midie. 

136 



STYRIAN SONS. 

TWO-PART SONG. 



Words by A. J. Foxweix. 



Arranged by W. C. B. 




1. In the morn, climb I the rocK • y height, La la la la la 

2. Then the clouda roll up the moan • tain side, La la la ia la 



r=:dtit 






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8. O'er the wide scene now I cast my eyes. La la la la la 



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la la la. Where the sum - mils all are tipt with ro - sy lijrht, La 
ta la la. O'er the rug - god top the paint • ed shad • owe glide, La 

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la la la, And in thank • ful • ness my bap - py lot I prize. La 






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138 



STYRIANSONG, Concluded. 




epark - ling, Wbile the val • leys still are dark • ling, And the 
hoa • ry, Touch'd by soft gleams, turn to glo - ry, While by 
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Ject • ed. 



Ets by earth's cares 



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birds with cheer - ful songs the ear de - light, La la la la la »• 
va • ried tints the dis • tnot woods are dyed. La la la la la la. 

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loft • 7 Alp I touch the glow • Ing skies. La la la la la la. 






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139 




140 



SONGS AND PHYSICAL PLAYS. 



141 



OPENING SONG FOR SCHOOL. 



Tune.— " TF7ta< a Friend We Rave in Jesus. 



Here we gather every morning, 

In this place to us so dear ; 
To the fomit of knowledge coming ; 

We will gladly hasten here. 
Happy school-room, happy school- 
room, 

Here we meet with friends so true ; 
Here we walk in wisdom's footsteps, 

Daily learning something new. 

But our school-days now are fleeting. 

Like the by-gone days of yore ; 
Soon these happy words of greeting, 

Will be sung by us no more ; 
We'll remember, we'll remember, 

Those with whom we often meet ; 
And we hope again to see them, 

In a home of love complete. 

There we hope to stand with loved ones, 

On that bright celestial shore ; 
There to sing sweet songs of worship. 

And be parted nevermore ; 
Happy home, our home in heaven, 

In that city bright and fair ; 
There we'll join the heavenly chorus, 

With our loved ones over there. 



A CHRISTMAS SONG. 

TvTHE.— "Lightly Bow." 



Christmas bells ! Christmas beUs, 
How their merry music swells, 



Loud they ring, loud they ring ! 
Santa-Claus a welcome bring. 
See his sleigh, how packed with toys, 
DoUs for girls, and drums for boys. 
Bells ring clear, bells ring clear, 
Santa-Claus is here. 

Christmas tree ! Christmas tree, 
Ready now for you and me, 
Full of toys, fuU of toys, 
Gifts for girls and boys. 
Something here for every one, 
Homeward now, his work all done. 
Hear him cry, hear him cry, 
Little folks " Good-by." 



WHEN SCHOOL IS OUT. 



Tune.—" When Johnny Comes Marching Home 

Again." 

When school is out, the children sing 

Hurrah ! hurrah ! 
How sweet their happy voices ring, 

Hurrah ! hm-rah ! 
The girls all sing, the boys all shout. 
And laugh and play for school is out. 
And they hop and skip 
As they go singing home. 
And they hop and skip 
As they go singing home. 

How happy every lad and lass, 

Hurrah! hurrah! 
As home from school they gaily pass. 

Hurrah ! hurrah ! 



142 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



Their work is over, now for play, 
They love a long, glad holiday, 
So they laugh "Ha, ha," 
And all go singing home. 
So they laugh, "Ha, ha," 
And all go singing home. 



THE SEASONS. 



IVSE— "Prithee, Pretty Maiden." From 
"Patience." 



Summer da}'S are coming 

Happy children we : 
Bees are humming 

Busy and free. 
Pleasant winds are blowing 

All the summer day, 
Just like children 

Loving their play. 
Summer days are coming, 

Busy bees are humming. 
Breezes are playing. 

So are we. 

Autumn daj^s are coming. 

Pleasant are the hours : 
Bright leaves glowing. 

Lovely as flowers. 
Maple, oak and willow 

Stand in colors gay, 
Greeting the children 

Dressed for holiday. 
Maple, oak and willow, 

Pied, and brown and yellow. 
Bright leaves are glowing 

Everywhere. 



Winter days are coming, 

Merry childi'en we : 
Jack Frost is roaming, 

Busy is he. 
Ice and snow all round us. 

Sleigh-bells ringing clear. 
Jack Frost has fouud us. 

Meet him with a cheer. 
While the bells are ringing 

Let him find us singing, 
Sweet music winging 

Through the air. 



SONG FOR SCHOOL. 



TusE.-"IIoia the Fort." 

Oh, the flag of our own country. 

Let it wave on high : 
May the stars and stripes ne'er perish 

And no foe come nigh. 

Chorus. — Floating o'er the heads of 
May it wave above : [ freemen, 
O'er the homes we prize so dearly, 
And the land we love. 

Once it waved in time of bloodshed. 

O'er the battle plain : 
Now above a land united. 

Free from slavery's stain. 

[Chorus.] 
May we ever love its colors, 

Bed and white and blue : 
May we one and all prove faithful, 

Faithful, kind and true. [Chorus.] 
Sylvia Manning. 



SONGS AND PHYSICAL PLAYS. 



143 



RAIN AND SNOW. 



Tu>fE.— " Oh, See the Fai-mer in His Field !" 



Tell us how the mists arise. 
The mists arise, the mists arise, 
And floating to the far-off skies, 
Come falling down in rain-drops. 

We'll tell you how the mists go up. 
The mists go up, the mists go up, 
The sun stoops down with shining cup, 
And lifts the sparkling water. 

And when the drops are in the sky, 
Are in the sky, are in the sky. 
Does ev'ry one go sailing hy 
Like wind-blown downy thistles ? 

0, each wee drop when in the sky, 
When in the sky, when in the sky, 
Can find another hast'ning by 
And so the clouds all gather. 

Now see they come, an army grand. 
An army grand, an army grand, 
! all the clouds a soldiers' band 
Come downward, bravely marching. 

Yes, down they come in snow and rain, 
In snow and rain, in snow and rain, 
And glad to reach the earth again. 
They fill the rushing rivers. 

So God who made the sea and land, 
The sea and land, the sea and land, 
And holds them in his hollowed hand. 
Shall send the patt'ring raindrops. 

Lizzie M. Hadley. 



BIRD SONG. 



Tune." Coming Thro' the Bye." 

Oh ! what joy to be a wild-bird. 

Always free from care ; 
Tilting in the sunny meadow^ 

Flitting thro the air.^ 
All the flowers know and greet him 

With a graceful bow.^ 
All the green leaves whisper to him 

Secrets soft and low. 

Now his dainty bill he's dipping* 

In the running brook 
Now the water he is sipping 

With an upward look.^ 
Hark a rustle, chirp, a flutter,*' 

See he flies away,'' 
Now he's back again a swinging^ 

On a bending spray. 

High above us he is circling. 

Swiftly round and round^ 
All the while his song is ringing. 

What a joyous sound ! 
Oh what joy to be a wild bird 

Always free from care ; 
Tilting in the sunny meadows ;^ 

Flitting thro the air.-^ 



Motions.— > Tilting on tiptoe throughout line 
keeping time to the music. 2 "Waving hands with 
a floating upward movement, (diagonally). -'Bow 
^Bend heads forward. ■^Bend heads backward 
looking up. « Rubbing hands together to make 
rustling sound. 'Same as 2. ^Like'. ''Moving 
hands in circles. 

ANNIE C. Chase. 



144 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



MORNING HYMN. 



Tune.—" Rome Sweet Rome.' 



Dear Jesus, our Savior,^ 

We know thou art near ; 
Our humble petition 

Art ready to hear ; 
We beg thy tender mercy^ 

To guide us thro the day ; 
Oh keep us all from sinning,^ 

In all we do and say. 

CnoRus.-Hear, hear, hear, our prayer ;* 
Oh turn not away from us^ 
Thy loving care. 

And when with school and lessons, 

We are forever done ; 
When life with all its trials, 

In earnest has begun ; 
Oh ! teach our feet to walk, Lord,*^ 

In thine appointed ways ; 
Oh teach our hearts to love thee ;' 

Our tongues to speak thy praise.^ 

[Chorus.] 

Motions.—' Look up. ^ Look up and lift hands 
imploringly, ^cjasp uplifted hands. ^ Same as 
2. 5 Same as ^. •" Point toward feet ; look up. ' Hands 
on hearts, s Finger tips on lips. 

Annie C. Chabe. 



FROM A MAN TO A JUG. 



TufiE.—" Little Brown Juq." 

Give ear, we beg you, to our song 
We'll try not to make it very long, 



About a man who loves strong drink, 
A very silly man we think. 

Chorus. — Oh ! no, no, no, no drink for 

me^ 

Unless it's water, pure and free. 

Oh ! no, no, no, no drink for me 

Unless it's water, pure and free. 

This man was a brate, at home, abroad ; 
He loved not man, he loved not God. 
He'd make his children to him bring 
His jug of cider, then he'd sing : — 
"Ha ! ha ! ha ! you and me,^ 
Little brown jug, don't I love thee," 

[ Chorus.] 

He drank and drank, so people said. 
Till his hair grew white ^ and his nose 

grew red ; * 
His ways were coarse, his voice was 

gruff. 
Still he drank but he couldn't drink 

enough. 

[ Chorus.] 

A sad, sad fate they say befeU 
Just like a jug he soon did sweU. 
His arms were stiff like handles too, ® 
His head to a wooden stopper grew. ^ 

[ Chorus.] 

Motions.— Repeat last two strains of music. 
1 Move heads from side. - Throw back heads and 
smile. 3 Touch hair with right hand. * Touch nose 
with right hand. •'' Arms stifiQy curved, elbows out- 
ward at sides. " Touch heads, making slight bow. 
Annie C. Chase. 



SONGS AND PHYSICAL PLAYS. 



145 



SOLO FOR LITTLE GIRLS. 



Tune. — " A)inie Lylf. 



Down where the trees were bending, 

In an orchard gay, 
Robin her young birds was tending, 

One bright summer da}'. 

Chorus. — Wave tree tops,^ ripple 
In the summer air, [waters. 

Glimmer sunshine^ 'mid the daisies, 
Robin's free from care. 

Just where the path winds narrow, 

'Mong the flowers gay, 
Harry with his bow and arrow. 

Came from school one day. 

[Chorus.] 

Harry spied the merry birdie, 

Flitting to and fro, 
He bent his bow, ^ his cruel arrow 

Laid poor robin low. 

[Chorus, softly.] 

Wave tree tops, ripple waters, 

Patter summer rain. 
Birds, nor bees, nor sun can waken 

Robin's song again. 

Motions.—' Children wave liand.s gently to and 
fro. - Raise hand.s above heads movins the fintters 
rapidly, ^^ake motion as of drawing bow. 




THE RAINBOW AND ITS EM- 
BLEMS. 



Concert. 

Beautiful bow in heaven above, 

Token of promise, emblem of 
love : — 

What is thy lesson ? We're wait- 
ing to know : — 

Tell us thy meaning, beautiful bow. 

First Child. Violet— Modesty. 

Spring's warm sun and balmy air 
.Bring the flower whose name I 

bear. 
Modest, blue eyed floweret, 
Name and color, Aiolet. 

Second Child. Indigo— Sincekitt. 

Deep and clear the tint I show, 
Rich and perfect indigo. 
Like this color, I would be 
Known by my sincerity. 

Third Child. Blue— Truth. 

In the sunny days of youth, 
What so sweet and dear as truth ! 
Emblem of the good and true 
Shines in heaven's unclouded blue. 

Fourth Child. Green— Immortality. 

As the fields are clothed in green 

again 
After Winter's dreary reign, 
So when earth's shadows all shall 

flee 
Comes immortal life to me. 



146 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



Fifth Child. Yellow— WoETH. 

Far above the gems of earth 
Shines the gem of moral worth. 
Never shown in monarch's crown, 
One so rare as I may own. 

Sixth Child. Orange— Feuitfulness. 
When the autumn comes again, 
And the fields are ripe with grain. 
This, my color, you'll confess 
Tells the harvest's fruitfulness. 

Seventh Child. Red— Love. 

When the Winter's blast so shrill. 
Blows o'er river, vale and hill. 
In the fireside's ruddy glow 
Live the loves of long ago. 

Concert. 

Bow of promise, bow of light. 
Have we read thy lines aright ? 
Written in the heavens above, 
" God is wisdom, God is love." 

[The parts are to be taken by seven little girls 
dressed in white and wearing sashes of the color 
they represent, passing from the right shoulder, 
and fastening at the waist on the left side. The 
sashes may be of cambric or of tissue paper. It is 
easier to get the right colors in paper. 



BAND OF MERCY. 

I'm first of a band of brothers 
Whom you all will quickly see, 

Our names are in golden letters, 
And mine is the letter B. 

I saw that my brother was coming. 
So I left my work and my play. 



I, too, am written in gold. 
And I am the letter A. 

We are just like a band of soldiers 
Trying to march with care. 

I am the third in the company 
And N is the name I bear. 

I'll try to be honest and truthful 

Whatever else I may be. 
Dare to do right is my motto. 

And I am the letter D. 

The fifth in this grand procession. 
My name you soon will know, 

Bound and shining, a golden ring, 
I'm called the letter 0. 

Faithful, friendly and fearless, 

I will always try to be. 
Now, as I turn my card around, 

The letter F you see. 

Cowards are mean and cruel, 

I suppose you have all seen them ; 

I mean to be brave and gentle. 
And I am the letter M. 

Kind and tender and loving, 

I will always try to be. 
Helping the weak and feeble. 

And I'm called the letter E. 

Never a braver company. 

Marched to the sound of drums. 
There are always wrongs to be righted 

And R is the next that comes. 



SONGS AND PHYSICAL PLAYS. 



147 



I'm one of this valiant company, 

Merry and happy are we. 
I look like a golden crescent 

And am called the letter C. 

I'm last in this hand of brothers, 
And to do my best I'll try. 

I'll stand in line with the others. 
And here is my letter, Y. 

All. 

And now if you will read our names 
with care 

A Band of Mercy you'll find. 
That means, to all harmless creatures 

We've agreed to be good and kind. 

We'll protect them from cruel usage. 
Their rights we'll try to defend ; 

And wherever you chance to see us, . 
You will find us the animal's friend. 
Lizzie M. Hadlet. 



(Each child should hold a card with his letter up 
on it. Those letters may be cut from gilt paper and 
pasted on red or black card-board. As the letter is 
named, the card should be turned so that at the 
close of the exercise the words "Band of Mercy," 
may be easily read. J 



SONG OF THE BUBBLES. 

Tp and up we go, 

And we shine and glow ; 
Though our life lasts not a minute, 

We reflect all colors in it. 



MARCHING. 



TVSE,.—" MarcJiiiKj Through Georgia." 



Boys and girls, attention all, 
With faces front and eyes; 

Slowly now we're turning, 
Softly all together rise. 

Hands above our heads now clasping, 
So we'll exercise 

While we go marching together. 

Hurrah ! Hurrah ! 
We're marching to and fro. 

Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! 
See how happily we go. 

Let's sing a merry chorus 
While we all keep step, just so. 

As we go marching together. 

Hands upon our shoulders now, 

See what a pretty sight, 
See the time we're keeping 

Left and right with step so light. 
While ado^^'n the isles we're going 

Faces gay and bright 
As we go marching together. 

Hurrah ! Hurrah ! 
We'er marching to and fro. 

Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! 
See how happily we go. 

Let's sing a merry chorus, 
While we all keep step, just so, 

As we go marching together. 



148 



THE KINDERGARTEN, 



Now we're back beside our seats 
*Tis bey for work once more ; 

See our bands togetber, 

Toucbing beads and sides and floor, 

Tben so straigbt and tall we're stand- 
ing, 
Play time now is o'er. 

Hurrab ! Hurrab ! 
We'll do our very best. 

Hurrab ! Hurrab ! Hurrab ! 
Study gives to a play a zest. 

So let's study witb a will 
Till 'tis time again to rest, 

Tben we'll go marcbing togetber. 



PUSSIES. 



Tune. — " Prairie Flower. 



Dainty Pussie Willow, on tbe swaying 
bougli. 

Sang a wbile to spring time, soft and 
low; 

Wbat we beard tbem telling tbro' tbe 
plasbing rain 

We will sing to you again : 

Yes we are pussies tbo' we never purr ; 

See we're dressed in softest fur ; 

Cbildren reacb to gatber us witb lov- 
ing care 

Wbere w^e gently sway in air.^ 

Come tbe gentle blue birds wben tbe 
warm winds blow ; 



Do we ever catcbtbem"? Ob, no, no, 

no, no !' 
W^e are no sucb pussies ; sad would 

be tbe spring 
Did tbe dear birds never sing. 
Long we've been rocking, liere on tbe 

bougb^ 
All curled in our cradles so ;^ 
Tbro' tbe montbs of winter witb tbeir 

cold and storm 
We were sleeping snug and warm.* 

(Repeat last to strains of music.) 

By and by tbe rain came, knocking 

at tbe door.^ 
Sunbeams coaxed us " Sleep no more ;" 
Out we sprang deligbted,*^ now we 

gaily swing^ 
Tbro' tbe sunny liours of spring. 

Motions.— 1 Sway arms geutly to and fro. - Shake 
heads. ^ Arms folded, heads bent, eyes sliut. •• Same 
as 3. 5 Drumming r.oftly with linger tips. * Sitting 
up quickly and opening eyes. 



HOW NARCISSUS' NECK BECAME 
BENT. 



Tune.— "TTe Bnam Through Forest Shades." 

Beside a rippling streamlet, 

A sweet narcissus grew, 
Witbin a mossy dell, 

Witb violets wbite and blue. 

Chorus. — Tra, la, la, la, la, la, la, 
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, 
Tra, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. 



SONGS AND PHYSICAL PLAYS. 



149 



Over all the trees were bending, bend- 
ing, bending, bending; 
Pretty birds were singing, singing 
all the day ; 
Grasses were Hvaving, waving, wav- 
ing, waving ; 
Sunbeams were Mancing, dancing 
in their merry way. 

Chokus — Tra, la, la, etc. 

One day Narcissus thought 

She'd like to take a look. 
Upon her pretty face 

Within the running brook. 

Chorus — Tra, la, la, etc. 

She bent her neck just so^, 

But when she tried again 
To lift her pretty head 

She tried alas, in vain. 

Chorus — Tra, la, la, etc. 

Motions.—' Children hold both hands in front and 
wave them— not too rapidly. ^ Raise hands above 
heads moving fingers rapidly. 'Bend heads grace- 
fully. 



THE RAILWAY TRAIN. 



The railway train is starting off. 
The engine gives a hasty puff, 
The bell is rung, the whistle blows. 
The agent says " Right !" and off it goes. 

Chorus. — Ring, a-ding ! a-ding ! a- 
Puff ! puff ! puff ! [ding ! 



Over the bridge, it shoots away, 
Though the tunnel, dark all day, 
Through the cutting or the plain, 
Till it comes to the depot again ! 

Chorus — Ring, a ding ! etc. 

The agent calls out Boston train, 
Take your seats we're off again ; 
Now, be quick with the baggage there. 
The signal shows the line is clear, 
Time and train for no men wait. 
Off, off, 'tis getting late. 

Chorus — Ring, a-ding ! etc. 

MoTiON.s.— In the chorus, the chidren imitate the 
action of ringing a bell, and clap their hands at puff, 
puff, pud. 

Suitable actions should accompany each ver.se, 
and be performed by every child at the same mo- 
ment. 



SONG OF THE DAISIES. 



Tune— "Oi'pr the River, the River Wide." 
Boy Sings— 

Comes the cold March with his drift- 
ing snows, 

Low all the daisies are buried;' 
-Boy- 
Blusters about with his boisterous 
blows. 

School— 

Low all the daisies are buried ; 

Girl— 

Comes the mild April with sunshine 
and rain. 



I50 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



Still all the daisies are sleeping ; " 

Girl- 

Calls to them softly again and 
again ; 

ScJiool— . 

Still all the daisies are sleeping. 

Comes pretty May with her violets 

blue ; ' 
Finds all the daisies a-sleeping , 
Calls to them gaily, It's high time 

for you. 

Lo ! daisies' buds are a-peeping.* 

Comes merry June singing, blue 

are my skies, ^ 
Come little daisies be waking ; 
Green are the meadows, come open 

your eyes. 

See daisies' bright heads a-shaking." 

Hurrah! we're a wake from our long 
winter sleep,' 

Down in the grasses we're growing ; 

Butter-cups with us the summer 
days keep 

Where the warm breezes are blow- 
ing. 

Come little children, awa}', away. 
Clovers are doning their bonnets ; 
Columbines wear their best "boots" 

every day, 
Bobolink's singing his sonnets. 

Motions.—' School with heads bent down on 
desk, sing softly. " School keeping same position- 



^ Second Girl with bunch of violets. * School lean- 
ing, with eyes closed, showing hands with buds in 
them, sings. ^School remain in last named posi- 
tion while the third little girl sings, o School sit- 
ting up with eyes wide open and showing hands 
filled with daisies, and shaking them gently, 
^School, adding grasses, buttercups, etc., to tke 
bouquet as they are mentioned — sings. 



LOOKING AHEAD. 



(FoK Ant Number of Boys and Giels.) 



BOYS. 

We now are but boys, 
Yet soon we'll be men, 

And what, do you think, 
Our work will be then ? 

Some shall use hammer, and plane 
and saw ; ^ 

Others shall read weighty books of the 
law;^ 

Some shall be farmers and drive the 
plow, ^ 

Earning our bread by the sweat of our 
brow. 

Scattering seeds and raking the hay, 

Busy and hapjjy, day after day. 

Some shall be doctors, and with well- 
balanced skill 

Shall heal all your aches, and send in 
our bill. ^ 

Some dentists shall be, and your mo- 
lars pull out ; *' 

And aldermen, some, capaciously 
stout. ' 

Some shall use .awl, and waxed-end 
and last, ^ 



SONGS AND PHYSICAL PLAYS. 



15^ 



Sewing your shoes so strong and so 

fast. 
Some shall be bakers, and knead the 

soft dough ; ^ 
Others clear glass in this manner shall 

blow ; i« 
Some with the hammer and anvil shall 

work, " 
And there is not among us, one who 

will shirk. 
For work is man's portion, and all 

must agree 
Without it, unhappy and useless we'd 

be. 

GIELS. 

We're growing up too. 
And as you have heard 

What the boys mean to do, 
We'll now say our word. 

Some shall be weavers, and with shut- 
tle or spool, ^^ 

Weave beautiful fabrics, of silk, cotton, 
or wool ; 

Some shall use needles, and stitch with 
such art, ^^ 

That the sewing we do, will ne'er rip 
apart ; 

Some shall use yard-sticks and meas- 
ure off well ^* 

Silks, muslins, or laces, which also 
we'll sell ; 

Some shall be teachers, and teach all 
we can^^ 

To our eager young pupils — on the 
latest new plan ; 



Some shall do housework and scrub, 

sweep, and broil, ^"^ 
Making home pleasant, for some son 

of toil. 



Motions.— 1 The three motions of pouudlng, and 
planing, and sawing in quick succession. ^Left 
hand up, as if holding a book to read, ^ggth 
hands closed lightly, and held out in front— hands 
bent down. ■'Right hand makes the two motions 
of sowing and raking. ^Rigiit ijand held at quite 
a distance above the left, as though holding a 
long bill. 5]\iotion of extracting a tooth. "Hands 
clasped and held out in front, forming with the arms 
a semicircle. * Motion with both hands of draw- 
ing in and out the waxed end. ^ Double fists — 
kneading. '"Motion of blowing through a tube. 
''Vigorous motion of striking the blacksmith's 
hammer on anvil. '-Motion ol pushing shuttle- 
left and right. '^ Movement of stitching with thumb 
and finger of right hand. '< A measuring move- 
ment, full length of the arms. '^ Right hand half- 
way raised, with the forefinger out. "' Movements 
of scrubbing and sweeping in quick succession. 



SWING, SWING, SWING. 



Come, come, come, come, 

Fancy come play awhile ; 
Come, dear fairy, come, 

With your pleasant smile. 
Come, little fairy, whom we love, 
Change our school-room to a grove, 
Where the old trees arch above, 
While we swing. 

Swing, swing, swing, swing, ^ 
Light is the summer breeze ; 

Swing, swing, swing, swing, ^ 
Under the swaying trees. ^ 

Soft green grasses 'neath our feet, ^ 



352 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



Overhead the birds sing sweet,* 
All around the flowers greet, ^ 
Swing, swing, swing. ^ 

Swing, swing, swing, swing, ^ 

Merrily to and fro, ^ 
Sing, sing, sing, sing, 

Gaily as we go. 
Now we swing up very high, ^ 
Watch the white clouds floating by, 
Now we "let the old cat die,'"^ 

Swing, swing, swing.*' 

Motions.— 1 Hands at sides, swing tliem alter- 
nately backward and forward, ^^mis in front, 
slightly curved; sway them gracefully toward right 
and left. ^ Looking and pointing downward. ''Look- 
ing and pointing gracefully upward. ''Having 
brought the arms outward and together in front of 
body, hands with palms upward, move them slowly 
apart, the right hand to the right and the left hand 
toward the left. *■ Same as ', moving gradually 
slower, stopping all motion at last word of song. 



LET'S PLAY. 



Tune.—" When Pnss Willi Soft and Velvet Paw." 

' Let's play we're little birdies, flying 

here and there. 
Perched upon a leafy tree, sailing in 

the air. 
Hark ! ev'ry birdie sings. 
Sweet, sweet the music rings. 

''Let's play we're little ponies, ready 

for a race. 
Trot ! trot ! each pony tries to win the 

foremost place. 
Trot, trotting? 0, what fun! 
Trot, trot ! the race is won. 



' Let's play we're little boxes standing 

in a row. 
Some behind and some before, just 

this way we go. 
Turn the key, each unlocks. 
Up, pops "Jack-in-the-box." 

*Let's play we're little soldiers, see 

our flfes and drums, 
'March, march with 'banners waving, 

so our army comes ; 
March on, keep step just so, 
'Toot, toot, the trumpets go. 

Let's be little carpenters, 'up our 

houses go, 
'Saw the boards, '"then plane them 

well, "nail and hammer so. 
"Knock 1 knock ! a sturdy blow, 
''Tap, tap ! the hammers go. 

"Let's play we're little children, jump- 
ing high and low, 

Now, in air, now on the ground, see our 
jump-ropes go. 

Swing, swinging in the air. 

Swing swinging free from care. 

"Now our play-time's over and here 

we are in school. 
Sit erect and study well, mind the 

teacher's rule. 
Then when our work is done 
Happy we'll homeward run. 

Motions.— ' [Children stand, and move hands and 

arms to imitate flying. 2 [Arms akimbo. Move the 
feet to imitate the trotting of horses.]^ [AH stoop 



SONGS AND PHYSICAL PLAYS. 



^53 



until the last line, when they start up quickly, each 
like a real "Jack-in-the-box."] *Play the fife and 
beat the drum. ^Move the feet as if marching. 
^Move hands as if waving flags. ^Left hand at the 
mouth to imitate a trumpet. ^Move hands as if build - 
ing a wall. '-'Imitate sawing. '"Imitate planing. 
" Drive in the nails with the clenched fist. '^ Drive 
nails with tips of the fingers. '^ [Swing the hands 
and move the feet to imitate jumping rope.] '■^ [AH 
sit and fold their arms.] 



DAISY FAIR. 

Have you beard the song of the daisy 

fair? 
Oh the daisy fair she has not a care ; 
A sweet little face has daisy fair, 
She's smiling all the day. 

Now see her buds peep^ where the 

grasses wave,'^ 
Where the grasses wave,'^ the grasses 

wave, 
Now see her buds peep, where the 

grasses wave,''^ 

This way'^ above her head. 

Chorus. — Oh the heads of nodding 
clover^ 
Oh the boughs that sway above her* 
Oh the butterflies dancing over^ 
Love the daisy fair. 

Now her bright eyes open to the sun ;'' 
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, what fun ! 
Now daisy's playtime has begun ; 
Gay little daisy fair. 

Our daisy always moves with grace^ 
While she bends this way,^ this way'' 
this wav.' 



She looks the bright sun in the face,^ 
Brave little daisy fair. 

[ Chorus.] 

At morn she turns her head this way^ 
For she loves the sun, the sun they say, 
And watches for its first bright ray. 
Wise little daisy fair. 

At noon she smiles up at the sky'" 
Tra la la la la la la la la, 
While the sun smiles back from his 
place so high. 
Happy daisy fair. 

[ Chorus.] 

When the earth is dry beneath her 

feet,'^ 
Lowly droops her head in the l)linding 

heat.i"^ 
She clasps her fingers,'^ hear how 

sweet 

Daisy breathes a prayer. 

Come, pretty white cloud, pray send 

the rain. 
Send rain, the rain, the rain, the rain, 
pretty white cloud, I pray send rain 
That I ma}' bloom again. 

[ Chorus.] 

Now the cooling drops come, spark- 
ling'* down, 
Tra la la la la la la la la la. 
Now daisy has a bran new crown. 
Proud little daisy fair. 



154 



THE KINDERGARTEN. 



All night, when the dear sun goes to 

sleep, 
And all the dews around her weep, 
She turns this way^^for one more peep. 
Good night little daisy fair. 

[Chorus.] 

Motions.— 1 Show hands— held gracefully and not 
too high— with fingers closed. * Hands open palms 
downward, wave gracefully up and down moving 
from elbows. ^ Nod gracefully. * Arms held at full 
length slightly and naturally curved, palms down- 
ward, wave gently to and fro. ^ Retaining position 
(*) of arms, move upward diagonally, moving all the 
fingers. * Looking up, hands in position, (^) fingers 
spread apart. ' Bend body slightly forward. *Look 
up. 9 Looking toward the East, i'' Look up. ii Look- 
ing and pointing toward feet. '^pj-Qop heads. 
1^ Folding hands. Retain positions '- and ^^ through- 
out the seventh stanza. ^* Holding hands above 
heads, move dow^lward in front of body, moving 
fingers. '^TurntoWest- 



BIRD SONG. 



Tune.—" Coming Thro' the Rye." 



Oh ! what joy to be a wild bird, 

Always free from care ; 
Tilting in the sunny meadow,^ 

Flitting thro' the air.'-^ 
All the flowers know and greet him 

"With a graceful bow.^ 



All the green leaves whisper to him 

Secrets soft and low. 
Now his dainty bill he's dipping* 

In the running brook. 
Now the water he is sipping 

With an upward look.^ 

Hark a rustle, chirp, a flutter*' 

See he flies away ; ' 
Now he's back again a swinging^ 

On a bending spray. 
High above us he is circling. 

Swiftly round and round^ 

All the while his song is ringing ; 

What a joyous sound ! 
Oh what joy to be a wild bird 

Always free from care ; 
Tilting in the sunny meadows,^ 

Flitting thro' the air.^ 

Motions.— 1 Tilting on tiptoe throughout line 
keeping time to the music. 2-\Vaviug hands with 
a floating upward movement, (diagonally.) ^Bow. 
* Bend heads forward. ■' Bend heads backward look- 
ing up. * Rubbing hands together to make rustling 
sound. 'Same as 2. sLijjei. » Moving hands in 
circles. 




The Nursery. 



CHILDREN are the poetry of the world, the fresh flowers of our 
hearts and homes, little conjurors, with their "natural magic," 
evoking by their spells w^hat delights and enriches all ranks, and 
equalizes the difi"erent classes of society. 



THE NURSERY. 



THE APHABET. 



A B C D E F G 

HI J K L M N 

O PQ R S T U 

V W X Y Z & 

abed efghi 
j k Imnopqr 
stuvw xyz 

Note. — Let the child copy the above Alphabet, on a slate or piece of paper, 
until the forms get thoroughly fixed in his mind. 



157 







STORY OF AN APPLE-PIE. 



A was an apple-pie; 

B bit it; 

C cut it ; 

D dealt it; 

E eat it ; 

F fought for it ; 

G got it ; 

H had it ; 

J joined it; 

K kept it ; 

L longed for it; 

All ^vished 



M mourned for it ; 
N nodded at it; 
O opened it; 
P peeped in it; 
Q quartered it ; 
R ran for it; 
S stole it ; 
T took it; 
Y viewed it ; 
W wanted it; 
X, Y, Z and & 
for a piece in hand; 



158 



FRUIT AND FLOWER ALPHABET. 



159 



FRUIT AND FLOWER ALPHABET. 




B stands for Berries, 
Of dark and bright hue, 

So handsome to look at, 
And good to eat, too. 




D is the Date-Palm, 
A tall, graceful tree ; 

The fruit in big bundles 
You often may see. 



A stands for Apples, 
Right off from the tree, 

So nice to be eaten 
By you and by me. 




C stands for Cherries, 
That grow up so high, 

So sweet when we get them. 
So rich in a pie. 




i6o 



THE NURSERY. 




P is the Fern plant, 
So graceful it looks, 

Which many girls gather, 
And press in their books. 




H is the Holly, 

Whose leaves are so green. 
And red are its berries, 

As ever were seen. 



B is the Evergreen, 
Explained by its name, 

In Summer and Winter 
Exactly the same. 




G is the Grape fruit. 
That grows on a vine ; 

We eat it in clusters. 
And drink it in wine. 




FRUIT AND FLOWER ALPHABET. 



lUI 




J is the Jasmine, 

So fair and so sweet, 

That covers our porches. 
And shuts out the street. 




Iv is the IviLY, 

So graceful and white, 
May we, like the lily, 

Be pure in God's sight ! 



I is the Ivy, 

stone walls it grows, 
And there it clings closely, 
Though hard the wind blows. 




K stands for Kidney, 
A kind of a bean, 

To cook for the table, 
And fatten the lean. 




l62 



THE NURSERY. 




M is the Moss-RosE, 
How proudly it stands ! 

But thorns with its blossoms 
May hurt little hands. 



■^ ^>6. 



N is for Nuts, boys, 
The squirrel's delight, 

And good to be eaten 

Some cold Winter night. 





O is an Orange, 

Peeled ready for use. 

How pleasant to eat it, 
x\nd suck its sweet juice 



P is for Pineapple, 

Brought from the South, 
And ready to melt in 

A good boy's mouth. 




FRUIT AND FLOWER ALPHABET. 



163 




O Stands for Quinces, 
Sohard on the trees, 

When mother preserves them 
The children they please. 



R is the Rose, girls. 

The queen of all flowers, 

With beauty and fragrance 
It brightens the hours. 





S stands for STRAWBERRIES, 
So red and so sweet; 

With cream and with sugar, 
How luscious to eat ! 



T is the Tomato, 

So useful for food ; 
'Tis juicy and pulpy. 

And wholesome and good. 




1 64 



T]iE NURSERY. 




U is the root of 

The Unicorn plant, 
And sometimes, when sick, 

'Tis just what 3'ou want. 



V is for one of 

Our beautiful ViNES, 
Which climbs by its tendrils, 

And lovingly twines. 




X is the Xanthus, 

A new and queer word. 

With blossoms as 3'ellow 
As Dickey the bird. 




W is the grain, 

Grown now to Wheat, 
Giving the flour 

That all of us eat. 




FRUIT AND FLOWER ALPHABET. 



165 




Y is the Yucca, 

Which grows in the swamp, 
And gives ns gay flowers 

Which feed on the damp. 



Z stands for Zigadenus, 
As here 3'on may see, 

A plant which will give us 
The last letter, Z. 





3 66 



THE NURSERY. 



TEMPERANCE ALPHABET. 

A STANDS for Alcohol, a tiuid of 
fire, 

Which often brings death to the seller 
and buyer. 

B stands for Beek, sometimes sold 
by the barrel, 
Most all who love it love also to 
quarrel. 

Cis for Cider, in these latter days 
It is called " Satan's Kindling," 
it can make a big blaze. 

D stands for Drunkard, help 
him, who can, 
To reform, be converted, and live like 
a man. 

E stands for Egg-nog, called an 
"innocent drink," 
Made of milk, eggs and brandy. Is it 
innocent, think ? 

F stands for Fight, which is easy 
for those 
Who of brandy or beer take a liberal 
dose. 



G 



stands for Gutter, and also for 
Gin. 

Who use much of the latte?' ihefoiDur 
get in. 

H stands for Hops, a vine much 
abused 
By those who make ale, beer and 
porter, 'tis used. 



I 

J' 



is for Idler, no work will he do. 



s for Jug, his companion and foe. 



Kis for Kindness, how little is 
shown 
To those who through liquor have 
desperate grown. 

Lis for Loafer, who after much 
drinking 
Stands on a corner, apparently think- 
ing. 



M 



stands for Maniac, his reason all 
gone. 

His family heart-broken ; pray who 
did the wrong ? 



N 


T^ stands for Pipes, which you always 



is for Night, the time for dark 
deeds. 

is for Outcast, who on crumbs 
and husks feeds. 



will find 

In places where liquor is sold — any 
kind. 

Questions us whether it's prudent 
or wise 

To smoke and to drink. There can 
be no disguise — 



Q 



R 



UM shows itself sooner or later in 
all. 

Flee the tempter ! Oh, how he'd re- 
joice in your fall. 



TEMPERANCE ALPHABET. 



167 



S stands for Station-House, where 
in sad plight, 
Poor drunkards are frequently taken 
at night. 

Tfor Tobacco, iised in various ways 
To rob men of strength and 
shorten their days. 



u 



stands -for Usuey, this adds to the 
woes 

Of rum's victims, when to the pawn- 
broker ne goes. 



nnocent 



Vis for Vine, and it's i 
fruit 



Is made to help man sin below the 
poor brute. 

Wfor Whiskey, a very mean drink^ 
When one takes to this, he 
surely will sink. 

X's one, two and three, are used to 
describe 
A drink, l)y Avliich many thousands 
have died. 

Y stands for Youth, be wise and 
beware. 

Yield not to the tempter and die in 
despair. 

Z stands for Zeal, which can helj) 
us to win 

Many souls from the power of Satan 
and sin. 



ALPHABET OF MAXIMS. 

Attend carefully to details of your 
business. 

Be prompt in all tlhngs. 

Consider well, then decide positively. 

Dare to do right, fear to do wrong. 

Endure trials patiently. 

Fight life's battles bravely, manfully. 

Go not into the society of the vicious. 

Hold integrity sacred. 

Injure not another's reputation nor 
business. 

Join hands only with the virtuous. 

Keep your mind from evil thoughts. 

Lie not for any consideration. 

Make few acquaintances. 

Never try to appear what you are not. 

Observe good manners. 

Pay your debts promptly. 

Question not the veracity of a friend- 
Respect the counsel of your parents. 

Sacrifice money rather then principle. 

Touch not, taste not, handle not in- 
toxicating drinks. 

Use your leilsure time for improve, 
ment. 

Venture not upon the threshold of 
wrong. 

Watch carefully over your passions. 

'Xtend to every one a kindly saluta- 
tion. 

Yield not to discouragement. 

Zealously labor for the right : 
And success is certain. 

Baron RoTHSCHiiiD. 



i68 



THE NURSEI^Y 



A, B, C. 



The A, B, C, 

Is pleasant to me, 
I'm learning it all tlie day ; 

Whenever I look 

In a printed book, 
I see nothing but A, B, C, 

Sing A, B, C, 



Sing A, B, C, 
Sing B, S, T, 
Sing X, Y, Z, and aU. 

If I can fix 

These marks twenty-six 
In this little careless head, 
I'll read every book, 
As soon as I look 



Sing A, B, C, 
I see nothing but A, B, C, 

, I'm glad to know 

The fine little row 
Of letters, both great and small ; 

The D, E, F, G, 

The L, M, N, 0, P, 
And the X, Y, Z, and all. 




At the letters all over it spread. 

Sing A, B, C, 

Sing X, Y, Z, 
And the letters all over it spread. 

I now will learn 
Them all in turn, 
The big letters and the small ; 
For how can I spell. 



A, B, C. 



169 



Or pronounce them well, 
Till I shall have learned them all ? 

Sing A, B, C, 

Sing X, Y, Z, 
For I am going to learn them all. 

The bees and the flies 

Have nice little eyes, 
But never can read like me ; 

They crawl on the book, 

And they seem to look. 
But they never know A, B, C ; 

Sing A, B, C, 

Sing X, Y, Z, 
They never can know A, B, C. 

—Hastings' " Nursery Songs. 



They look like crooked sticks — oh 

dear ! 
Ma counted six, and twenty more ; 
What do they have so many for ? 



SCHOOL TIME. 



LEARNING THE LETTERS. 



Now, Jenny, and Mollie, and Eobert, 
and John, 
Attend to your letters, I pray ; 
For if with your reading you do not 
get on. 
You'll never be readj^ for play. 

Attention to lessons brings laughter 
at play, 



I wish I knew my letters well. 
So I might learn to read and 

spell ; 
I'd find them on my pretty 

card, 
If they were not so very hard. 

Now S is crooked — don't 

you see? 
And G is making mouths at 

me, 
And is something like a 

ball,— 
It has n't any end at all. 

And all the rest are — my! 



so queer 







TJO 



THE NURSERY, 



Glad faces, with merriment bright, 
Good temper, and hearts full of sun- 
shine by day, 

And sweet, peaceful slumbers at 
night. 

Then on with your letters, a, e, i, o, 
u — 
The dullest can honestly try ; 
And who would not work with the 
prospect in view 
Of reading bright books by-and-by ? 

M. H. F. Donne. 



TT-O-or ll()fT • T)-o-rr (InfT • 

And two more words are here ; 
But if the dog should bite the hog, 
The bite would spoil Jns ear. 



SPELLING LESSON. 

C-a-t, cat; B-a-t, bat; 

And so two words we spell ; 





But if the bat should hit the cat. 
Then we would hear a yell. 



T-o-y, toy; B-o-y, boy; 

And two more words we spy ; 
But if the boy should break his toy, 

The little chap would cry. 

B-a-g, bag ; E-a-g, rag ; 

We spell them like a flash ; 
But when the rag goes in the bag, 

Then both are sold for cash. 

B-i-g, big; P-i-g, pig; 

Two more words here we give. 
A little pig may yet be big. 

If he shall grow and live. 

V-a-t, vat ; H-a-t, hat ; 

Two easy words, no doubt. 
But if the hat falls in the vat. 

Then who can get it out ? 



ONE, TWO, THREE. 



171 



M-e-n, men ; P-e-11, pen ; 

These words yon ought to know, 
It is the pen that rules the men, 

And has since long ago. 



One, two, three ! 
The riddle tell to me. 
The moon atioat is the honny boat, 

The sun-set is the sea. 




D-a-m, dam; E-a-m, ram; 

And here are two words more. 
But if the ram falls in the dam, 

How will he get ashore ? 

M-a spells ma ; P-a spells pa ; 

Two good and sweet words here. 
If it were not for pa and ma, 

"What would you do, my dear? 

G-o-o-d, you know, spells good. 
And you are good to-day. 

While you are good, your daily food 
Goes with your daily play. 



ONE, TWO, THREE! 



One, two, three ! 
A bonny boat I see. 
A silver boat, and all afloat, 

Upon a rosy sea. 



KNOWLEDGE. 



Beneath the oak tree's cooling shade 
This boy and girl have often plaj'ed ; 




But now at study they take a turn, 
Their lessons well they try to learn : — 
Here is a truth for everj'body. 
Knowledge comes by earnest study. 



172 



THE NURSERY. 




AT SCHOOL. 



"Spell 'cat,'" says the teacher, May, 

"P-u-s-s," says Ted. 

" Oh, stupid child, thafs not the waj. 
You'll have to go down foot to-day," 
With a solemn shake of her head. 



" You spell it, Susie, now." 

"M-e-o-u, meou !" 

" Oh, what a stupid ! Susie, you. 
Must go down foot, I tell you, too ! " 
With a frown upon her hrow. 



" Now, Katie, you spell ' cat/ 
You're clever enough for that." 

" S-c-r-a-t-c-h," she said, 
With a comical droop of her curly 
head. 

And then she, too, "down foot" 

was sent. 
And the teacher's patience all was 
spent, 
"For you're all at the foot of the 

class," she said, 
"And I am the only girl 'up head." 



TEN LITTLP: CJIIC-A-DEES. 






THE LITTLE CHIC-A-DEES. 




EN little chic-a-dees clinging to a vine, 
A speckled snake charmed one, then there were 
but NINE. 




Nine little chick-a-dees, — one without a mate, — 

A sparrow-hawk cought one, then there were but EIGHT. 




Bight little chic-a-dees, by a 'possum driven, — 

He caught one and slaughtered it, then there were but SEVEN. 



^74 



THE NURSERY. 




Seven little chic-a-dees hopping round the ricks, — 

A weasel came and captured o?ze, then there were but Six. 




Six little chic-a-dees watching Rover dive, — 

He sprang ashore and seized one, and then there were but FIVE. 




Five little chic-a-dees pecking at the door, 
Kitty-cat caught one, then there were but FOUR. 




Four little chic-a-dees full of birdy glee, — 

One was tanq-led in a ne" then there were but THREE. 



TEN LITTLE CHIC-A-DEES. 



/O 




Three little chic-a-dees dabbling in the dew, — 

A stone fell and crushed o?ze, then there were but Two. 




Two little chic-a-dees peeping just for fun, — 

A hungry kite caught one^ then there were but ONE. 




One little chic-a-dee, mourning all alone, 

Flew away to find a mate, and then there was none. 

Mrs E. P MiLLEB. 




-u.- 



176 



THE NURSERY 




MOLLIE BUTTON. 



Mollie Button, just for fuu, 
Stands to show us she is one. 



Mollie and her sister Lue 
Show that ONE and ONE make 
TWO. 




IMollie, Lue, and Fannie Lea 
Show that ONE with Two make 
THREE. 




Moll, Lue, Fan, and Little 

Noah, 
Show that ONE with THREE 

make four. 



MOLLIE BUTTON. 



177 




Moll, Lue, Fan, Noah, 
and Will Shrive, 

Show that ONE with four 
make FIVE. 



Now all these with 
Clara Ricks 

Show that ONE 
with FIVE make 

SIX. 




One more, Fred, a ba- "* 

by, even, 
Show that ONE with 

SIX make SEVEN. 



178 



THE NURSERY 



WitH these girls and 
boys put Kate, 

And the one with 
SEVEN make 

EIGHT. 




All these eight with 

Madaline, 
Show that ONE with 

EIGHT make nine. 



Now with these put 

Frank, and then 

You'll see that one 

with NINE make 

TEN. 




COUNTIXG. 



179 







A NEW TIME-TABLE. 



COUNTING. 



12 5 

One, Two, Three, 
Come to the woods with me. 

4 5 6 

Four, Five, Six. 
We'll knock down cherries with sticks. 

7 8 9 

Seven, Eight, Nine, 
To fdl this new basket of mine. 

10 11 12 

Ten, Eleven, Twelve, 
We'll all be as happy as elves. 



Sixty seconds make a minute : 
How much good can I do in it '? 
Sixty minutes make an hour, — 
All the good that's in my power. 
Twenty hours and four, a day, — 
Time for work, and sleep, and play. 
Days, three hundred sixty-five 
Make a year for me to strive 
Eight good things for me to do. 
That I wise may grow and true. 



TIME. 



" Sixty seconds make a minute. 
Sixty minutes make an hour ; " 

If I were a little linnet. 

Hopping in her leafy bower. 

Then I should not have to sing it : 
"Sixty seconds make a minute." 



i8o 



THE NURSERY. 



Twenty-four hours make a day, 
Seven days will make a week ; 

And while we all at marhles play, 
Or run at cunning "• hide and seek," 

Or in the garden gather flowers. 
We'll tell the time that makes the 
hours. 

In every month the weeks are four, 
And twelve whole months will make 
a year; 

Now I must say it o'er and o'er, 
Or else it never will be clear ; 

So once again I will begin it : 

" Sixty seconds make a minute. " 



Four hours are lost .' (And then it 

strikes Ten !) 
No lazy ones enter the kingdom of 

heaven; " 



THE CLOCK. 

I hear the clock strike, and what dotb 

it say '? 
One, two, three, four, five, six! A 

beautiful day ! 
Again it strikes. Seven ! and brightly 

the sun 
Is shining, and work for the day has 

begun, 
I hear it at Eight, as clear as a bell ; 
It says, "I have wonderful things to 

tell. 
Don't waste any moments; they're 

not yours, nor mine ; 
See how quickly they pass. (I hear 

it strike nine !) 
Not slothful in business ! hear this, 

idle men ! 




And it riugs out in warning the num- 
ber Eleven ! 

Why it's noon, I declare, and while 
we all rest. 



CHILDREN OF THE WEEK. 



i8i 



I hear the clock tickliKj and ticking its 

best, 
It never gets tired, its work's never 

done ; 
But it does rest a little ; hark, it only 

strikes One ! 
0,1 can't keep up with it, whatever I do ; 
Just while I am talking, again it 

strikes Two ! 
Then quickly comes Three, and then 

it is Four ! 
The hours seem shorter and shorter, 

I'm sure. 
These moments are precious; 0, how 

we should strive 
To ring out the hours, for pleasure 

and pain. 
To improve each one faithfully ! One 

Two, Three, Four, Five ! 
As through the da}', so all through 

the night. 
The clock ticks and strikes, till again 

it is light ; 
And then at the dawn begins over 

again. 



CHILDREN OF THE WEEK. 



The child that is born on the Sabbath 

day 
Is blithe and bonny, and good, and 

gay; 

Monday's child is fair of face ; 
Tuesday's child is full of grace ; 
Wednesday's child is merry and glad ; 



Thursday's child is sour and sad ; 
Friday's child is loving and giving ; 
And Saturday's child must work for 
its living. 



DAYS OF THE WEEK. 



Seven bright jewels our Father above 
Hath given His children, in mercy 

and love : 
Beautiful jewels set in gold 
For the rich and poor, the young and 

the old. 
But one He asks may to Him be given. 

That each may have some treasure in 

Heaven. 
These jewels are days, and we are 

blest 
With hours for labor and hours for 

rest. 
Let us work with all zeal, be fervent 

in spirit. 
That we may the kingdom of Heaven 

inherit. 

S-aviour of sinners, 0, hear while we 

pray ! 
M-aster, lead us and guide us 

alway ! 
T-he Lord is my Shepherd, and He 

will provide ; 
W-atchful and prayerful, I '11 keep by 

His side. 
T-here is room for no idler in the 

vinevard to wait — 



lS2 



THE NURSERY. 



F-aithful workers are needed, the 

harvest is great — 
S-uch only shall enter the beautiful 

gate. 



DAYS IN THE MONTH. 



January has thirty-one, 
Snow and ice, and lots of fun. 

February has twenty-eight. 
In which to slide, and sleigh, and 
skate ; 

But every fourth year the records 

incline 
To add to the number, and make 

twenty-nine. 

March has also thirty-one, 

In which we have more wind than fun. 

April, with its sun and showers, 
Has thirty for its leaves and flowers. 

May, with frolic and with fun. 
Fills up the number tJtirty-one. 

Only thirty we have in June ; 
Its roses and sunshine are gone so 
soon ! 

July again brings thirty-one, 
And we toss the hay 'neath the sum- 
mer sun. 

August has thirty-one as well; 
Hear the harvest chorus swell ! 



September, with tlilrty, is calm and 

stin, 

And does its work in the busy mill. 
Of days to climb, and jump, and run, 
October contributes thirty-one. 

November is so dreary and cold, 
I'm GLAD it has only thirty all told. 

Hurrah ! for Christmas comes in 

December, 
And (7 has tliirty-one, 1 remember. 



THE MONTHS. 

First is the month of January, 
When pleasant fires make young folks 
merry. 

Next comes the month of February, 
When snow and rain the weather vary. 

The month of March comes next, you 

know, 
When cold and strong the breezes 

blow. 

The month of April then comes in. 
When warm and pleasant days begin, 

Then comes the merry month of May, 
When lambs and children love to play. 

Next comes the summer month of 

June, 
And then the sun is hot at noon. 



THE MONTHS. 



183 



Then follows in its turn July, 
When all the land is hot and dry. 

Next sultry August takes its turn, 
And hotter yet the sunbeams bum. 

Then comes September, sweet and 

mild, 
With cooler days to suit a child. 

Then ripe October comes in suit. 
To tempt the taste with pleasant fruit. 

November, next, is bleak and rough, 
And every day is cold enough. 




Then come the snows of harsh 

December ; 
But Christmas also comes, remember. 



THE MONTHS. 



Thirty days hath September, 
April, June, and November ; 
February has twenty-eight alone. 
All the rest have thirty-one. 
Excepting Leap-year, that's the time 
When Februarv's davs are twentv- 



ALL ABOUT A FROG. 



A"^ 





This is an egg : 
Watch it, I beg. 

Out of this egg 
(no arm or leg) 
Comes this 
strange thing, 

The legs now 
spring. 

Both front 

and rear. 
Now this 

is queer. 
The tail 

plays flop, 
And goes 

off pop ! 

And soon it 

hops about 

the bog, 

A happy, timid, 

little frog. 



nine. 



FACTS FOR LITTLE FOLKS. 

Tea is prepared from the leaf of a tree ; 
Honey is gathered and made by the bee. 
Butter is made from the milk of the cow ; 
Pork is the flesh of the pig or the sow. 
Oil is obtained from fish and from flax ; 
Candles are made of tallow and wax. 
Worsted is made from wool, soft and 

warm ; 
Silk is prepared and spun by a worm. 



i84 



THE NURSERY. 




KNITTING SOCKS. 



Well-a-day ! How queer to say 
Our Kitty's knitting socks to-day ! 
Twirling worsted round about, 
Clicking needles in and out, 
Spectacles on nose to see, — 
Our Kitty is our Busy Bee. 



GRANDMA'S UMBRELLA 



Twa's a boisterous day, and this fool- 
ish little fellow 



Went out all alone with his grand- 
ma's umbrella. 




When he opened it, the wind 

Took him up, and sent him flying 

Till it soused him in a pond. 

Where his father found him cry- 



mg. 



THE LITTLE KINDERGARTEN 
GIRL. 



If I sew, sew, sew, and pull, pull, pull. 
The pattern will come, and the card 

befuU; 
So it's criss, criss, criss, and it's 

cross, cross, cross; 
If we have sbme pleasant work to do 

we're never at a loss. 



QUEER LITTLE STITCHES. 



1S5 



Ob, dear ! I pulled too rougbl}', — I've 
broken tbrougb my card. 

I feel like tbrowing all away, and cry- 
ing real bard. 

But no, no, no, — for we never sbould 
despair, 

So I'll rip, rip, rip, and I'll tear, tear, 
tear. 




QUEER LITTLE STITCHES. 



1 
\ 

THE LITTLB KINDERGARTEN GIRL. 

Tbere ! you pretty, purple worsted, 

I've saved you, every stitcb 
(Because if we are wasteful we never 

can get ricb). 
Now I'll start anotber tablet, and I'll 

make it perfect yet. 
And motber'll say : " Ob, tbank you, 

my precious little pet ! " 



Ob, queer little stitcbes, 
You surely are witcbes. 

To botber me so ! 
I'm trying to plant you : 
Do stay wbere I want you, 

All straigbt in a row. 

Now keep close togetber ! 
I never know wbetber 

You'll do as I say. 
Wby can't you be smaller? 
Y^'ou really grow taller. 

Try bard as I may ! 

Tbere ! now my tbread's knotted, 
My finger is dotted 

Witb sbarp needle-pricks ! 
I mean to stop trying, 
I can not belp crying ; 

Ob, dear wbat a fix ! 

Yes, yes, bttle, stitcbes, 
I know 3^ou are witcbes — 

I'm sure of it now — 
Because you don't botber 
Grown people bke motber 

Wben they try to sew. 

Y^ou love to bewilder, 
Us poor little " cbilder" 

(As Bridget would say), 
By jumping and dancing. 
And leaping and prancing, 

And losing your way. 



i86 



THE NURSERY. 



Hear the bees in the clover ! 
Sewing "over and over" 

They don't understand. 
I wish I was out there, 
And playing about there 

In that great heap of sand ! 

The afternoon's going ; 
1 7nust do my sewing 
Before I can play. 




Now behave, little stitches, 
Like good-natured witches, 
The rest of the day. 

I'd almost forgotten 
About waxing my cotton, 

As good sewers do ; 
And — oh, what a memory ! - 
Here is my emery 

To help coax it through. 



I'm so nicely provided 
I've really decided 

To finish the things. 
There's nothing like trying ; 
My needle is flying 

As if it had wings. 

There, good-bye, little stitches ! 
You obstinate witches. 

You're punished, you know. 
You've been very ugly, 
But now you sit snugly 

Along in a row. 



LEARNING TO SEW. 

" I am learning how to sew," said an 
eager little maid ; 
" I push the needle in and out, and 
make the stitches strong ; 
I'm sewing blocks of patchwork for 
my dolly's pretty bed. 
And mamma says, the way I work 
it will not take me long. 
It's over and over — do yoii know 
How over-and-over stitches go ? 

"I have begun a handkerchief: 
Mamma turned in the edge, 
And basted it with a pink thread to 
show me where to sew. 
It has Greenaway children on it 
stepping staidly by a hedge ; 
I look at them when I get tired, or 
the needle pricks, you know 
And that is the way I learn to hem 



sow, SEW, AND SO 



187 



With hemming stitches — do you 
know them ? 




** Next I shall learn to run, and darn, 
and back-stitch, too, I guess, 
It wouldn't take me long, I know, 
if 'twasn't for the thread ; 
But the knots keep coming, and be- 
sides — I shall have to confess — 
Sometimes I slip my thimble off, 
and use my thumb instead ! 
When your thread knots, what do 
you do ? 
And does it turn all bro^mish, too ? 

" My papa, he's a great big man, as 

much as six feet high ; 
He's more than forty, and his hair 

has grey mixed with the black : 
Well, he can't sew ! he can't hc(jin to 

sew as well as 1. 



If he loses off a button, mamma has 

to set it back ! 
You mustn't think me proud, you 

know, 
But I am seven, and I can sew ! " 



SOW, SEW, AND SO. 



Sow, sow, sow. 
So the farmers sow ! 
Busy, busy, all the day. 
While the children are at play. 
Stowing, stowing close away 
Baby wheat and rye in bed. 
So the children may be fed, 

So, so, so. 




Sew, sew, sew, 
So the mothers sew ! 



iSS 



THE NURSERY. 



Busy, busy, all the day. 
While the children are at play, 
Sewing, sewing fast away, 
So the children may have frocks, 
Trowsers, coats, and pretty socks 
So, so, so. 

Sow, sew, so, 
So they sow and sew ! 
S, and 0, and W, 
This is what the farmers do ; 
Put an E, in place of 0, 
This is how the mothers sew, — 
So they sow and sew for you. 
So without the W, 

So, so, so. 



MY BLOCKS. 



A block which is round like the baby's 
ball, 

I have learned to call a sphere. 
I can roll it about and make it stand, 

Though a touch will move it, I fear. 

A half a sphere is a hemi-sphere, 
Like an orange cut for two. 

I can slide it on this side, and rock it 
on that. 
And roll it ; what else will it do ? 

This square-faced block which has six 
sides. 

Is a cube, — how easy to say ! 
It will stand upright and slide about. 

If I push it a little way. 



A rolling-pin block is a cylinder, 
A pencil is called the same. 

It will stand, and slide, and roll 
around. 
But it has a long, hard name. 

The surface is the part I touch. 
It is curved in a marble or ball ; 

But it's plane in the ceiling, it's plane 
in the door, 
Also in the floor of the hall. 




That part of the surface we see at once 

Is called the face of the block; 
Around it are edges, which may be 
curved. 
Or as straight as the hands of a 
clock. 

The end of an edge is called a point, 
This I show on my slate by a dot. 
The edges themselves, whether curved 
or straight, 
Are shown by lines, — tliat I nearly 
forgot. 

This is all I have learned about my 
blocks 
To tell you of to-daj'. 
And now, if you'll stay and watch me 
awhile, 
You'U see me make them of clay. 



BUILDING CASTLES 



1 89 




So we are building, ever building 
Structures grand and rare ; 

And with fond hopes, we're ever 
gilding, 
Castles in the air. 

Still we build them high and higher ; 

And call it not unwise ; 
Eesult may not fulfill desire, 

But happy he who tries. 



STEP BY STEP. 



One step and then another. 

And the longest walk is ended ; 
One stitch and then another, 

And the largest rent is mended ; 
One brick upon another, 

And the highest wall is made ; 
One flake upon another, 

And the deepest snow is laid. 



BUILDING CASTLES. 



Maidens three with smiling faces, 

Seated on the floor. 
Fitting blocks into their places, 

Windows, roof and door. 

Long before it is completed, 
The house is sure to fall ; 

But patiently remain they seated. 
Building castles tall. 




V'f! 



So the little coral workers. 

By their slow and constant motion, 
Have built those pretty islands 



190 



THE NURSERY 



In the distant dark-blue ocean ; 
And the noblest undei-taldngs 

Man's wisdom hath conceived, 
By oft-repeated effort 
Have been patiently achieved. 



LEARNING TO WRITE. 



Our Frankie has her lessons to learn 
and to write, 




Though the wind's in the west, and 
the sun's shining bright. 



Her sister's her teacher, who fondly 

guides her hand 
And makes her the very best writer 

in the land. 



ARTHUR'S TALK. 



Little Arthur, full of fun, 
Sporting in the summer sun ; 
Now he soils his dainty hand ; 
Now he fills his shoes with sand. 

"Arthur, what do piggies do?" 
"Grunt, grunt, grunt ; moo, moo, moo ; 
Bow, wow, wow ; peep, peep, peep ; 
Cock-a-doodle ; t'weet, t'weet, t'weet." 

Pigs and cows and dogs at once ! 
Can you call this babe a dunce ? 
Like a colt he neighs and prances 
Then with nimble feet he dances. 

"Who loves little Arthur boy?" 
"Da, da, da !" he shouts with joy. 
Papa clasps him to his breast ; 
Busy brain and feet will rest. 




School-Days. 



I 



F you make children happy now, you will make them happy 
twenty years hence by the memory of it. — Sydney Smith. 



SCHOOL-MYS. 




SCHOOL TIME. 



SCHOOL-TIME. 



School time. 

Chiklren dear. 

Hasten here, 
When the lesson-time is near ; 

Hurry fast, 

Don't be last ; 
Minutes now are flying fast. 



HALF-PAST EIGHT, HALF-PAST 
FOUR. 



Half-past eight, half-past eight ! 
School-bell's ringing — don't be late ! 
Get your books, and pens, and paper ; 
Don't be cutting truant capers. 
Half-past eight, half-past eight ! 
School-bell's ringing — don't be late ! 



193 



194 



SCHOOL DAYS. 



Half -past eight, half-past eight ! 
Who is he for whom we wait ? 
Lazy Jack ! — why this folly ! 
Why d'ye look so melancholy ? 
Don't hang back — march out straight, 
School-hell's ringing — school won't 
wait ! 




Half-past four, half-past four ! 
Bell is ringing — school is o'er! 
Master Jack is blithe and ready : 
Needn't hurry, Jack — march steady 
See the rogue, he runs about ; 



He's the very first boy out. 
Half-past four, half-past four ! 
Bell is ringing — school is o'er. 



EARLY AT SCHOOL. 



Through pathways green and very cool 
Miss Daisy trips along to school ; 
She is in haste for she would hate 
To stop and play, and be marked "late'^ 
All children should learn well this 

rule 
And never be late at their school. 



NOT READY FOR SCHOOL. 

Pray, where is my hat? It is taken 

away, 
And my shoe-strings are all in a knot, 
I can't find a thing where it should be 

to-day, 
Though I've hunted in every spot. 

Do, Rachel, just look for my speller 

up-stairs — 
My reader is somewhere there, too ; 
And, sister, just brush down these 

troublesome hairs, 
And, mother, just fasten my shoe. 

And, sister, beg father to write an 

excuse ; — 
But stop! he will only say "No;" 
And go on with a smile and keep 

reading the news, 
While everything bothers me so* 



LESSON IX ARITHMETIC. 



^95 



My satchel is heavy 


and ready to 


I wish I'd not lingered at breakfast the 


fall, 




last, 


This old pop-gun is 


Lrealcing my 


Though the toast and the butter were 


map ; 




fine ; 


I'll have nothing to do 


with the pop- 


I think that our Edward must eat 


gun or ball. 




pretty fast, 


There's no playing for 


such a poor 


■To be off when I haven't done 


chap. 




mine. 




Now Edward and Henry 

protest they wont wait. 

And beat on the door with 

their sticks ; 

^ \ I suppose they will say I 

// was dressing too late; 

To-morrow, Fll he up at six. 

Cakoline Oilman. 



LESSON IN ARITHMETIC 

Four robin redbreasts on 

the old apple tree, 
Whose pink and white blos- 
- soms are as thick as 

ij " ° ' ' i J ^^^^ ^® — 

'ill' •';'■'. //'♦ / If two of those birds should 
■ * ''' • / '/ 

quick fly away, 

>'/;^:.'^^<>^^^|^."/. ; ■ How many redbreasts would 

be left ? tell me, pray. 

The town-clock will strike in a min- ' , 

Only two would be left, but theij would 

not stay. 



ute, I fear, 
Then away to the foot I will sink ; 
There ! look at my Carpenter tumbled ^°' *^'^ '''''' ^^'^^ "^ ^^^^^ ^^''^*^^^^^ 

down here, ^^^^"^ ^^'^^''^y- 



And my Worcester covered with 
ink. 



Tom's six frisky kittens are chasing 
their tails. 



196 



SCHOOL-DAYS. 



As the milkmaid passes with o'er- 

flowing pails — 
If two of the kittens remain at their 

play 
Then how many have followed the 

milkmaid ; say ? 

(ANSWEK.) 

Four dear little kittens have followed 

the maid, 
And — the others ivill follow, if they're 

not afraid. 

Eight fleecy white lambkins yonder 

are seen 
Just over the brook, in the 

pasture green — 
If eight of them leap over 

the low, stone wall. 
Then, how many lambkins do 

not jump at all ? 

(ANSWER.) 

Were they Bo-Peep's lamb- 
kins, mamma? 0, I 
know. 

If one lamb leaped the wall, 
all the rest would go. 

If out of the water and dark 
mud below, 

Eise ten water lilies as white 
as the snow. 

And five laddies row out to--^-"" ~ 
gather the ten, ___,„«_ 

How many apiece have the 
• brave Httle men? 

(ANSWER.) 

They would have two apiece, if Tom 
had his way. 



But Archie'd have more — he's so 
mean, Archie Gray. 

Suppose I am forty and you are but 

five. 
In ten sunny years — if we still keep 

alive — 
Winter and summer, in all sorts of 

weather, — 
Pray, how many years can we count 

together ? 
(ANSWER, counting slowly.) 
Why you would be f-f-fifty and I'd be 

— f-ifteen. 




MULTIPLICATION IS VEXATION. 



There'd be ever so many years between. 
Count them together ? Mamma, wait 
till I grow ! 



ARITHMETIC. 



197 



Then, then, I could count them so 

easy, j-ou know. 
Would I then wear long dresses, and 

you a white cap '? 
And — couldn't I sit any more on 

your lap ? — dear ? 



ARITHMETIC. 



Multiplication is vexation, 

Division is as bad; 
The Rule of Three doth puzzle me. 

And Practice drives me mad. 



A SUM IN ARITHMETIC. 



There came into our school one day 
A W'hite-haired man, with pleasant 
smile ; 

He greeted us, and, sitting down. 
Said he would like to rest awhile. 

'Twas time to have Arithmetic. 

The teacher said, " Now all give 
heed! 
Put up your books, and take your 
slates, 
And do the sum which I will read." 

Our books went in, our slates came 

out, ' 

- And the teacher read the sum. 
We tried and tried, and tried again. 
And couldn't make the answer 
come. 



And then the old man said to us. 
With kindness twinkling in his eyes, 

" Who gets the answer first shall have 
A silver shilling for a prize." 

Then Tommy Dole resolved to cheat ; 

And slyly taking out his book. 
When he supposed he was not seen, 

A hasty glance inside he took. 

At once, the answer Tommy finds. 
And, "Now I've got it, sir," he 

cries. 
The teacher thinks Tom worked the 

sum, 
And tells him he has won the prize. 

But that old man had seen it all. 
Those twinkling eyes had watched 
the trick. 

" Well done, my boy ! 3'ou seem 
To understand arithmetic. 

" But now, before I give the prize, 
I'll let ^'ou try a harder one. 

Another shilling you shall have. 
If you can tell how that is done." 

And then, with kindest voice and look. 
He gently said to Tommy Dole, 

" "W-hat shall it profit you, my lad. 
To gain the world, and lose your 
soul ? " 

Then Tommy Dole hung down his 
head. 

And tears began to fill his eyes ; 
And all the scholars w^ondered why 

He would not take the silver prize. 



198 



SCHOOJu-DAYS. 



THE CARDINAL POINTS. 

I'm only a little laddie, 

Just learning to read you see, 

And something else that I think 
Is funny as it can be. 

And I'm sure you'll think as I do. 
For I don't believe you've heard 

Of this funny thing I'm learning, 
So I'll tell you every word. 

0, I love in the early morning 
To hear the twitter and trill 

Of birds, as the sun comes peeping 
O'er the top of the far-off hill. 

Big, and round, and golden. 
He lifts his shining face ; 

If 1 point to where I see him, 
Why East I must call the 
place. 

And all through the summer 

morning, 

He is climbing the sky's ~^^-'-'^- 

blue hill. 

And the air grows hot and drowsy. 

And the singing birds grow still. 

Till he reaches the highest summit. 
Then slowly he goes to rest. 

And the place where last I see him, 
I must always call the West. 

Now here is my little right hand. 
And it i:)oints to the East you see : 

If I stretch out my tiny left hand. 
Then this side West must be. 



And the North will be before me. 
While the South behind me lies. 

Don't you think it queer 

That a little girl can be so very 
wise ? 

Well, one thing more I will tell you, 

And then you have heard it all, 
'Tis this, East, West, and South, and 
North, 
The Cardinal Points we call. 

Lizzie M. Hadlet. 



GEOGRAPHY. 

The earth is round, and like a ball 
Seems swinging in the air ; 




The sky extends around it all. 
And stars are shining there. 

Water and land upon the face 
Of this round world we see ; 

The land is man's safe dwelling place, 
But fish swim in the sea. 

Two mighty continents there are. 

And many islands, too ; 
And mountains, hills, and valleys there 

With level plains we view. 



THE AXIS. 



199 



THE AXIS. 



Child you ask, "What is the Axis ? " 

With an apple I will show ; 
Place your thumb upon the stem- 
place, 
And your finger at the blow ; — 
Now we'll just suppose the apple 

Has a stem that passes through, 
And this stem would be the Axis ; 
Now we'll whirl the apple, true. 
I 
Holding fast 'twixt thumb and finger, — 
That's the way the Earth goes 
round 
On its Axis, as we call it, 

Though no real stem is found. 
And the two ends of the Axis 

Have been called the Poles, my 
dear ; 
Yes, the North Pole and the South 
Pole, 
Where 'tis very cold and drear. 

Now we'll hold a bigger apple 

At a distance, for the San ; 
Tip the smaller one a little, 

And then slowly wheel it round 
All around the larger apple. 

And it represents the Earth 
Circling round the Sun that holds it. 

Ceaseless, ni its yearly path. 

Wondrous is the strong attraction 
Of the Sun which holds in place 
All the Planets in their turnings. 



All the Stars that see his face ; 
But more wondrous far, the power 

That created Sun and us. 
And that gave a form and being, 

To this mighty Universe. 

" The Universe ! " now you exclaim ; 
"By the Universe, what do you 

mean ? " 
"'Tis the Sun and the Planets, and 

everything known. 
That we call by this Universe name. 

Now the " Planets," you ask, 

"What are Planets?" They're 
globes. 
Some larger, some smaller than 
Earth,— 
Which are swinging in space. 
And are held in place. 

By the God-power that first gave 
them birth. 

From Mother Truths' Melodies. 



THE PLANETS. 



Mercury is next to the Sun, 

While Yenus, so bright, 
Seen at morning, or night, 

Comes second to join in the fun. 

And tliinl in the group is our Earth, 

While Mars, with his fire 
So warlike and dire, 

Swings around to be counted the 
fourtJi. 



200 



SCHOOL-DAYS. 



While Jupiter's next after Mars, 
And his four moons at night 

Show the speed of the Hght ; 

Next golden-ringed Saturn appears. 




After Saturn comes Uranus far ; — 

And his antics so queer, 
Led Astronomers near 

To old Neptune, who drives the 
last car. 



AMERICA. 



A ship sailed over the blue, salt sea 
For a man, Columbus called, 

Had thought that the world was 
round, and he 
Of the old ideas had palled. 

So, in fourteen hundred and ninety- 
two. 

He sailed across from Spain, 
And found our continent so new — 

The "land beyond the main." 

But jealousies and rivalries 

And bickerings begun, 
And Christopher Columbus now 

With grief was overborne. 



Americus Yespucius soon 

Our shores came sailing round. 

And stole the naming of the land 
Columbus sought and found ; 




Wliile he, Columbus, lay in chains, 
And diqd in sore distress ; 

Yet won for us w^io tread his land, 
A lasting blessedness. 



PRESIDENTS OF THE UNITED 
STATES. 



First stands the lofty Washington, 
The noble, great, immortal one. 
The elder Adams next we see, 
And Jefferson comes number three. 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 



20I 



The fourth is Madison, you kno\y, 

The fifth one on the hst, Monroe. 

The sixth an Adams comes again. 

And Jackson seventh in the train. 

Van Buren is eighth upon the hne, 

And Harrison is numher nine. 

The tenth is Tyler in his turn. 

And Polk eleventh as we learn. 

The twelfth is Taylor that appears ; 

The thirteenth, Fillmore, fills his 
years. 

Then Pierce comes fourteenth into 
view, 

Buchanan is the fifteenth due. 

Now Lincoln comes two terms to fill. 
But God o'er-rules the people's will ; — 

And Johnson fills his appointed time. 
Cut short by an assassin's crime. 
Kext Grant assumes the lofty seat — 
The man who never knew defeat. 
Two terms to him, then Hayes 

succeeds. 
And quietly the Nation leads. 
Heroic Garfield our choice ; 
But soon ascends a mourning voice 
From every hamlet in the land — 
A brutal wretch with murderous hand 
Strikes low the country's chosen chief ; 
And anxious mihions, plunged in 

grief. 
Implore in vain Almighty aid. 
That Death's stern hand might still 

be stayed. 
Then Arthur served the people well. 
And Cleveland next as all can tell. 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY. 

King George the Third sent out a 
decree, 

In seventeen hundred and seventy- 
three, 

That three pence on every pound of 
tea 

The very moderate tax should be 

For the infant American colony. 

Though some protested, the King said 

" Gammon," 
For he was a royal disciple of mam- 
mon. 
And declared that taxation 
Was good for a Nation 

That needed some lessons in subjuga- 
tion. 

No tax on snuff ! and no tax on tea ! 

Such a state of things could no longer 
be! 

And those who indulged in such lux- 
uries, must, 

Said the loyal monarch, come down 
with the dust. 

So the word went forth, and, in Boston 

town, 
It swept like a hurricane fiercely 

down; 
And men and women were greatly 

stirred 
By this imposition of George the 

Third. 



202 



SCHOOL-DAYS. 



Trouble was brewing. Their tete-a- 
tete 

Lover and sweetheart abbreviate ; 
There was hurrying here 
And hurrying there, 

And ominous mutterings in the air, 

The bells were rung in the Old South 
steeple 

To the great alarm of the nervous 
people, 

And a meeting was held, where the 
proclamation 

Was read, that had caused all this 
perturbation. 

Invitations were posted up 

For the consignees to take a cup 

Of the very best tea — Oolong or Bonea, 

At high noon under the Liberty Tree. 

And the notice beneath, in every word, 

Was a sort of menace to George the 

Third, 
For it said (what an insult to the 

crown !) 
" Show me the man that dare take 

this down !" 
Honor and liberty were at stake ! 
But the consignees refused to take 
Their cup of tea on the terms sug- 
gested, 
Or do as the council of war requested, 
'Twas the only topic of conversation, 
Nothing was thought of but this taxa- 
tion, 
And the easiest way of liquidation. 
T— A— X 



'Twas enough to vex 

The souls of the men of Boston town, 

To read this under the seal of the 
crown, 

They were loyal subjects of George 
the Third ; 

So they believed, and so they averred. 

But this bristling, offensive placard 
set 

On the walls, was worse than a bayo- 
net. 

For it aimed at a principle dearer 
than life ; 

Three pence a pound on tea 

Not much of a tax would be ! 

But it proved the beginning of mighty 
strife. 

And lovers of freedom with dignity 
broke 

Away from the weight of King 
George's yoke. 
A burden of tacks 
Upon their backs 

They might have borne in an easy 
way, 

But the iron had entered their souls, 
and they 

Declared in a state of great fermenta- 
tion 

'Twas a wantonly cruel, unjust taxa- 
tion. 

What was to be done ? There were 
those indeed. 

Who were bound to have the perni- 
cious weed. 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY. 



203 



Eheiimatic old chaps, 
Who AvoukI sip between naps ; 
And maidens who'd never agree 
To give up an afternoon tea ; 
And hkewise the gossipy dames who 

were wiUing 
For the sake of such comfort, to spend 
their last shilling. 

And so it was decided to lay an 

embargo 
On vessels that brought over tea as 

their cargo ; 
For, if once they were landed, then 

trouble would follow, 
And neither the tax nor the tea would 

they swallow ! 
"With artful disguise, and grotesque 

decoration. 
Like sons of the forest, a poor imita- 
tion 
A score or more men on a night in 

December, 
Went forth to a deed the world would 

remember. 

In exhilaration. 
They took up their station. 
On board the vessels awaiting demur- 
rage. 
And no one could question their share 

• of " Dutch Courage." 
Soon others joined in with an interest 

hearty 
Increasing the size of the famous tea 
party. 



Declaring with war-whoops of savage 

delight, 
" Boston harbor shall furnish the 

tea-pot to-night." 
They boarded the ships 
That were then in their slips, 
Indignantly seizing the boxes of tea. 
And many a chest of the Chinaman's 

best 
Slipped quickly overboard into the 

sea. 
If any attempted to carry off booty. 
Which he might secure without pay- 
ment of duty. 
His thievish endeavors most certainly 

failed. 
Through a summary docket 
That cut off the pocket, 
Containing the tea, and the coat was 

curtailed. 

King George the Third who made the 

decree 
To relieve the East India Company, 
Would have sworn right royally, I 

opine. 
Could he have beheld that fleet in 

line. 
That never had given a countersign ! 
Four or five hundred boxes of tea 
Sailing so jauntily out to sea. 

The word the colonists sent, was not 
At the mercy of any highwayman's 

shot : 
Nor were there telegraphs to convey 
The people's message with less delay ; 



204 



SCHOOL-DAYS. 



But tediously slow 
The ships must go 
On the homeward track, 
Only taking back 
America's envoy, who on landing, 

straight 
Presented himself at the palace gate. 
Demanding an audience there and 

then ; 
With the first of English gentlemen. 
Who thought he'd a right a tax to 

impose. 
On all his subjects whenever he chose. 

He was ready to burst with rage, no 
doubt, 

"Wlien the clerk in a loud voice read 
about 

The Boston Tea Party ; — for then the 
King 

Perceived he had not done just the 
thing 

To please the American colony. 

The injured party who went out to tea 

In Seventeen-hundred and seventy- 
three. 



THE CHILD'S CENTENNIAL. 



Around the purple clover-flowers, 
The butterflies were flitting ; 

And on a stone beside the road 
A little boy was sitting. 

The fragrant air his yellow hair 
Around his face was blowing. 

And down his pretty rosy cheeks, 



The greatj'round tears were flowing. 
His breeches were of coarse, brown 
cloth ; 

His frock was made of tow ; 
For little Ebenezer lived 

A hundred years ago. 

Along the road, upon a horse. 

Two men came, riding double ; 
And one spoke out, " My pretty lad, 

Pray tell me what's the trouble," 
But, at his friendly words, the boy 

Began to sob the louder : 
" sir ! " he said, " my father took 

His gun, and horn of powder, 
And rode away this very morn 

To help to fight the foe ! " 
For there was war within the land 

A hundred years ago. 

The foremost man drew in his rein 

(His horse was somewhat skittish.) 
And said, " My dear, I would not fear : 

We hope to beat the British. 
And when the Yankees win the day. 

And send the Red- coats flying, 
And home again your father comes, 

You will not feel like crying : 
You'll be a happy fellow then." 

" Oh, that I shall, I know !" 
Poor little Ebenezer said 

A hundred years ago. 

" But, if he should not come at all. 
And we should find, instead, sir, 

A musket-ball had shot him down, 
A sword cut oft" his head, sir? " 



NINE PARTS OF SPEECH. 



205 



"Oh, even then," the man repHed, 

" You'd proudly tell his story, 
And say, ' He died for freedom's :./> V'-^ 
sake. 

And for his countrj-'s glory.' 
But brave must be the little son 

Whose father jEights the foe : 
We need stout hearts." And so 
they did, 

A hundred years ago. 

The man rode on, and home 
again 
Ean little Ebenezer ; 
"Now I must share my mother's 
care," 
He said, " and try to please 
her ; 
And I must work in every way, — 
Eake ha}^ and feed the cattle. 
And hoe the corn, since father's 
gone 
To give the British battle." 
Oh ! looking backward, let us not 

Forget the thanks we owe 
To those good little boys who lived 
A hundred years ago ! 

MAEIAN DOUGkLAS. 




NINE PARTS OF SPEECH. 



Three little words you often see 
Are Articles — a, nn, and the. 

A Noun's the name of anything. 
As sdiool, or garden, lioop, or swing. 



THE CHILD S CENTENNIAL. 

Adjectives tell the kind of Noun, 
As great, small, jjretty, ic]iite,ov brown. 

Instead of Nouns the Pronouns 

stand — 
Her head, Jiis face, your ami, vig 

hand. 

Yerbs tell of something to be done — 
To read, count, sing, laugh, jump, or 
run. 

How tilings are done the Ad\'erbs tell, 
As slowly, quicldy, ill, or irell. 



2o6 



SCHOOL-DAYS. 




NUMBER. 

A noun or name that means 
but one, 
Is called in the sbuffdar 
number; 
But when it stands for more 
than one, 
'Tis jilural, child, remember. 



GENDER. 



together, 

man 
man, 
weather. 

The Preposition stands before 
Noun, as at or ih rough the door. 

The Interjection shows surprise, 
As Ah! how prett}'. Oh! how wise. 

The whole are called Nine Parts of 

Speech, 
Which reading, writing, speaking 

teach. 

A word of three >5yllables children, 
now find. 

That holds the whole twenty-six let- 
ters combined.* 

♦Alphabet. 



A noun that is the name of 
males. 
As ox, or horse, or father, 
Is masculine in gender, dear ; 

While cow, and mare, and mother. 
And all the names of females, child, 

Are feminine, 'tis true; 
Now tell me all the names you know, 

And tell their gender, too. 
But you will find there's many a noun 

Not male, nor female either. 
As chair, and book ; and such wc call 
In neuter gender — neither. 



FUNNY, ISN'T IT? 

The pipers are not made of pipes, 

And cowards are not made of cows ; 
And lyres ai'e not made of lies. 

While bowers are not made of bows. 
The wickets are not made of wicks. 

And candles are not made of cans ; 
And tickets are not made of ticks, 

AATiile panels are not made of pans. 



ONE LITTLE CHICKEN, 



207 



The cattle are not made of cats, 

While willows are not made of wills, 
And hattles are not made of bats, 

And pilgrims are not made of 
grim pills. 
The cornets are not made of corns, 

A hotel is not made of a hoe ; 
And hornets are not made of horns. 

While all poets can not he Poe. 



ONE LITTLE CHICKEN. 

One little chicken, two little chickens, 
three little chickens, dear ; 

Don't you see we add s, when more 
than one is here ? 

And this we do with almost all the 
nouns that may appear. 




One little birdy, two little birdies, 

three little birdies soar ; 
The y is changed to i-e-s for birdies 

two or more ; 
And this, when a word shall end in y 

with a consonant before. 

One little donkey, two little donkeys, 
three little donkeys bray. 



But here the y remains unchanged, 
and s is called in play ; 




And this, when a wcnvl shall end m y, 
where a vowel leads the way. 



REMEMBER. 



Remember, though box in the plural 

makes boxes, 
The plural of ox should be oxen, not 

oxes; 
And remember, though fleece in the 

plural is fleeces, 
That the plural of goose isn't gooses 

nor geeses; 
And remember, though house in the 

plural is houses. 
The plural of mouse should be mice, 

not mouses-. 
Mouse, it is true, in the plural is mice ; 
But the plural of house should be 

houses, not hice. 
And foot, it is true,in the plural, is feet ; 
But the plural of root should be roots, 

and not reet. 



Didn't-think is a heedless lad 
And never takes the prize ; 

Eemember-well wins every time, 
For he is quick and wise. 



20S 



SCHOOL-DAYS. 



A, £, I, 0, U. 



A, E, I, 0, U, 

The vowels we may call ; 

W, Y are vowels, too, 

Whenever they chance to fall 

To the end of syllable or word. 

And this we all may know 

That all the rest are Consonants 

Just nineteen in a row. 



LESSON ON THE BONES. 

In my little face, so plainly seen, 
If you count the bones, you will find 
fourteen. 

And, beside all these, somebody has 

said 
You will find eight more in my curly 

head. 

On both sides of my head is a little 

pink ear 
With three bones in each to help me 
hear. 

And locked together, a long white line. 
Are the twenty-six bones that make 
my spine. 

If you look at my shoulders, you there 

will find, 
A bone in front, and a bone behind . 



While my twenty-four ribs together 

combine 
To make this stout little chest of mine. 

The bones of my arms jon see are but 
fcAV, 

Here is one in riiy arm, in each fore- 
arm, two. 




The bones in my wrist are bound snug 

and tight, 
Eight in my left wrist, and eight in my 

right. 

There are five in each hand, and five 

in each foot. 
And twenty-eight in fingers and toes 

are put. 



A LiTTLH boy's Troubles. 



209 



One bone in my hip, and it looks like 

a Clip, 
The end of my thigh-bone will just fill 

it up. 

This bone in my thigh has a very queer 

name, 
Femur or thigh-bone, it means the 

same. 

My knee-pan covers the joint at my 

knee, 
And, from this to my ankle, 

two bones you see. 



A LITTLE BOY'S TROUBLES. 



I thought when I'd learned my letters. 

That all of my troubles were done ; 
But I find myself much mistaken — 

They only have just begun. 
Learning to read was awful. 

But nothing like learning to write ; 
I'd be sorry to have you tell it, 

But my copy book is a sight ! 




The seven short bones in 
my ankle found 

By strong white cords to- 
gether are bound. 

If an apple or pear I wish 
to bite, 

I've thirty-two teeth so 
strong and white. 

And I'll always remember, in spite of 

my play, 
With water and brush, to cleanse them 

each day. 

Since the way that I sit, my bones 

must affect, 
rU try, while I'm young, to sit very 

erect. 

An-d when I grow older, you'll every 

one see, 

What a straight man or woman I then ' ^^ ^^'^ ^^''' ^^^^ *^^ ^'^' ^^^ *^^ ^'^' 
shall be ' Though I have certainly tried and 

Lizzie M. Hadley. tried 



The ink gets over my fingers ; 

The pen cuts all sorts of shines. 
And won't do at all as I bid it ; 

The letters won't stay on the lines ; 
But go up and do^\^l and aU over 

As though they were dancing a jig — 
They are there in all shapes and sizes, 

Medium, little, and big. 

The tails of the g's are so contrary. 
The handles get on the wrong side 



2IO 



SCHOOL-DAYS. 



To make them just right ; it is dread- 
ful, 

I really don't know what to do, 
I'm getting almost distracted — 

My teacher says she is, too. 

There'd be some comfort in learning 

If one could get through ; instead 
Of that, there are books awaiting. 

Quite enough to craze my head. 
There's the multiplication table, 
And cannot bear up all the mists. 

And then 'tis foggy, quite ; 

And grammar, and — oh, dear me, 
There's no good place for stopping, 

When one has begun, I see. 

My teacher says, little by little 

To the mountain-tops we climb, 
It isn't all done in a minute. 

But only a step at a time. 
She says that all the scholars, 

All the wise and learned men, 
Had each to begin as I do ; 

If that's so, Where's my pen ? 

But I'd like to know if ever 

Any you learned folks, 
Had the ink get over your fingers. 

Or blots in your copy-books. 
If your letters would sort o' straggle. 

Wherever they chose to go — 
'Twould be a very great comfort, 

If some of you'd let me know. 



THE WIND. 

" What is the wind, mamma ? ' 
" 'Tis air in motion, child ; " 

" Why can I never see the wind 
That blows so fierce and wild ? " 

"Because the gases, dear, 
Of which the air is made. 

Are quite transparent, that is, we 
See through, but see no shade. " 

"And what are gases, ma?" 
" Fluids, which, if we squeeze 

In space too small, will burst with 
force ; " — 
" And what are Jluids, please ? " 

"Fluids are what will flow, 

And gases are so light 
That when we give them room enough, 

They rush with eager flight. " 

" What gases, dear mamma. 
Make up the air or wind ? " 

" 'Tis oxygen and nitrogen 
That chiefly there we find ; 

"And, when the air is full 

Of oxygen, we're gay ; 
But when there is not quite enough 

W^e're dull, or faint away. " 

" What is the fog, mamma ? " 
" Sometimes the air is light 



TWELVE LITTLE SCHOOL-MATES. 



211 



" But, when air heavier grows, 

The fog is borne above, 
And floated off, the cloudy stuff, — 

Just see it, graceful, move. " 




" What makes the rain, mamma ? " 
<' The mists and vapors rise 

From land, and stream, and rolling 
sea, 
Up toward the distant skies ; 

" And there they form the clouds 
Which, when they're watery, dear, 

Pour all the water down to earth, 
And rain afar or near, " 

" What makes the snow, mamma ? " 

" When very cold above, 
The mists are frozen Jiigh in air, 

And fall as snow, my love. " 

"And hail?" "'Tis formed the same; 

Jdold streams of air have come 
And frozen all the water-drops. 

And thus the hail-stones form." 



TWELVE LITTLE SCHOOL-MATES 



The roses had fallen, and the weather 

was cool. 
And twelve little lassies, returning 

from school, 
I thought were so pretty, and tidy, 

and neat. 
To my house I would ask them, just 

over the street. 

They played, and they danced, and 

they skipped, and they sang, 
And the porches and parlors with 

laughter they rang. 
And sweet as a picture the beautiful 

sight 
Of my twelve little ladies so happy 

and bright. 

I called them my lambs, and the 

garden my fold ; 
And precious as silver, as good as the 

gold, 
Were the twelve - pretty maidens, so 

tidy and neat, 
Whom I asked to my house just over 

the street ; 
Though autumn be sad, and winter be 

wild, 
'Tis summer for all in the heart of a 

child. 



"All is not gold that glitters;" 
Yet think not, children mine, 

That all that glitters is not gold ; 
The true must ring and shine. 



212 



SCHOOL-DAYS. 



OF WHAT ARE YOUR CLOTHES 
MADE? 

Come here to mamma, and I'll tell 
you, dear boy — 
For I think you never have guessed — 




The goat or the calf must be stripped 
of their hides, 
To give you these nice little shoes. 

And then the shy beaver contributes 
his share, 

With the rabbit, to give 
you a hat. 
For this must be made of 
their delicate hair; 
And so you may thank 
them for that. 

All these I have mentioned, 
and many more, too, 
Each willingly gives us a 
share ; 
One sends us a hat, and 
another a shoe. 
That we may have plenty 
to wear. 

Then, as the poor creatures 
thus suffer to give 
So much for the comfort 
of man, 
I think 'tis but right that, 
as long as they live, 
We should treat them 
as kind as we can. 



How many poor animals we must 
employ 
Before little George can be dressed. 

The pretty sheep gives you the wool 
from his sides. 
To make you a jacket to use ; 



WHY MEN WERE BORN. 

Some men were born for great things, 
Some men were born for small ; 

Some, it is not recorded 

Why they were born at all. 



IDLE JOE. 



213 



IDLE JOE. 



What do I know ? Oh ! lots of things ; 

I'll tell you in a minute 
How to carve a hoat, and make a top — 

a humming-top — and spin it ; 
How to climh the walls as quick as the 

best of all the raccoons, 
How to trap the birds, catch eels and 

fish, and fly the toy balloons. 
And everything like that ; why, all the 

school and village know 
There's not another in the place with 

half such wit as Joe. 
What is it I don't know ? you ask. I 

don't know — let me see — 
Well, I shan't want desks when I 

grow up, nor dates, nor Rule of 

Three— 
And I don't know why some stupid- 
heads go learning all that stuff ; 
Or, if one wants the rubbish — why, 

there's always time enough. 
But I'll tell you now what puzzles me 

— I really do not know 
Why, when I sit and fish for hours, 

they say, " There's Idle Joe." 



THE LAZY BOY. 

The lazy lad ! and what's his name ? 

I should not like to tell ; 
But don't you think it is a shame 

That he can't read nor spell ? 

He'd rather swing upon a gate. 
Or paddle in the brook, 



Than take his j)encil and his slate, 
Or try to con his book. 

There ! see, he's lounging down the 
street. 

His hat without a rim ; 
He rather drags than lifts his feet — 

His face unwashed and grim. 

■■3 




He's lolling now against a post, 
But if you've seen him once. 

You'll know the lad amongst a host ; 
For what he is — a dunce. 

Don't ask me what's the urchin's 

name, — 

I do not choose to tell ; 

But this you'll know — it is the same 

As his who does not blush for 

shame that he don't read or spell. 



214 



vSCHOOL-DAYS. 




THE DUNCE'S BENCH. 

Again we see the dunce's row, 
The boys who never try to know ; 
Who apphcation always shirk, 
And never set their wits to work. 
Yet George looks grave, his earnest face 
Seems fitted for a better place. 

Oh, boys ! be wise ; the precious hours 
Are going fast, like fading flowers ; 
Oh, seek to learn in early days. 
Walk carefully in wisdom's ways ; 



Fill up the moments as they Hy,- 
For soon will come eternity. 



GOOD COMPANY. 

"I'll Try!" is a soldier; 

"I will" is a king; 
Be sure they are near 

When the school-bells" ring. 

When school-days are over. 

And boys are men, 
"I'll Try!" and "I Will !" 

Are good things then. 



THE SCHOOL. 



215 



THE SCHOOL. And stops to twitter and swing, — 

"When the daisies' eyes are a-twinkle 
" Little girljWhere do you go to school, \ With happy tears of dew ; 

And when do you go, little girl ? When swallows waken in the eaves, 

Over the grass, from dawn till dark, And the lamb bleats to the ewe ; 

Your feet are in a whirl ; } When the lawns are golden-barred, 

You and the cat jump here and there, ! And the kiss of the dew is cool ; 




You and the robins sing ; 
But what do you know in the spelling- 
book ? 
Have you ever learned anything ?" 

Thus the little girl answered, — 

Only stopping to cling 
To my fingers a minute, 

As a bird on the wing 
Catches a twig of sumach. 



When morning's breath blows out the 
stars, — 
Then do I go to school ! 

"My school-roof is the dappled sky; 

And the bells that ring for me there 
Are all the voices of morning 

Afloat in the dewy air. 
Kind Nature is the Madame, 

And the book whereout I spell 



2l6 



SCHOOL-DAYS. 



Is dog's-eared bj^ the brooks and glens 
Where I know the lesson well." 

Thus the little gh'l answered, 
In her musical out-door tone : 

She was up to my pocket, 
I was a man full-grown ; 

But the next time that she goes to 

school. 

She will not go alone ! 

FiTz Hugh Ludlow. 



OLD AND NEW. 

We are passing another mile-stone, 
Another school-year's done ; 

One more chapter of life is written 
A few more threads are spun. 

Jjife's a journey, a school, a story, 
Our best it doth demand ; 

'Tis a fabric ; it should be woven 
With steadfast heart and hand. 

But we've faltered, half learned our 
lessons. 
The story who will read ? 
And we've carelessly marred life's 
texture, 
A record poor indeed. 

Yet our errors, our failures shall be 
At length our best success ; 



If we store up their choicest teach- 
ings 
For future helj)fulness. 

We have trodden the old year's 
pathway. 
We enter on the new ; 
God hath brightened them both with 
mercies. 
To Him all praise is due. 

Let us study the matchless story, 

The life-work of His son, 
Till the volume of life is finished. 

Until the web is spun. 

JouKNAii OF Education. 



WHAT WILLIE SAID. 

Hear what a little child would say, 
Who comes to school each pleasant 
day. 

And tries to learn his lessons well, 
A good report at home to tell. 

I love the school, and teacher dear. 
And all the scholars gathered here ; 

To each I say in simple rhyme. 

Be careful, and not waste your time. 

For moments spent in life's young day, 
In useless or in thoughtless play. 

Will cast a shade o'er future years, 
And cause you many sighs and 
tears. 



Baby Land. 



BIBY-LARD. 



BABY-LAND. 



How many miles to Baby-Land ? 
Any one can tell ; 

Up one flight, 

To your riglit — 
Please to ring the bell. 




"What can you see in Baby-Land ? 
Little folks in white, 

Downy heads, 

Cradle beds. 
Faces pure and bright. 

What do they do in Baby-Land ? 
Dream, and wake, and play, 

Laugh and crow. 

Shout and grow ; 
Jolly times have they. 



What do they say in Baby-Land ? 
Why, the oddest things ; 
Might as well 
Try to teU 
What a birdie sings. 

Who is the queen of Baby-Land? 
Mother, kind and sweet ; 
And her love. 
Born above, 
Guides the little feet. 

Geobge Coopek. 



OUR DARLING. 

See Frontispiece. 



She is fairer than the light, 
She is lovelier than the rose, 

More precious in my sight 
Than any flower that grows. 

Her voice is sweeter, far. 
Upon my listening ears. 

Than the song of morning star, 
Than the music of the spheres. 

She is worth her weight in gold. 
In rubies and in pearls, — 

She is only two years old. 
With a head of yellow curls. 

I^IART N. PRESCOTT. 



219 



220 



BABY-LAND. 



ONLY A BABY SMALL. 


Smile — a tiny, flashing sunbeam. 




Hair of purest, fairest gold. 


Only a baby small, 


Hands and shoulders full of dimples, 


Dropped from the skies ; 


Little Winnie, eight months old. 


Only a laughing face, 
Two sunny eyes ; 


Making funny, cooing speeches 


Only two cherry lips. 


Nobody can understand — 


One chubby nose ; 


Such a quaint and pretty language. 


Only two little hands 


Only spoke in Baby-Land. 


Ten little toes. 


Should I sing all day about her. 




All her sweetness were not told : 


Only a golden head, 


She's a bud, a bird, a fairy. 


Curly and soft ; 


Little Winnie, eight months old. 


Only a tongue that wags 




Loudly and oft ; 




Only a little brain. 


ANOTHER LITTLE WAVE. 


Empty of thought ; 




Only a little heart. 


Another little wave 


Troubled with nought. 


Upon the sea of life ; 




Another soul to save 


Only a tender flower 


Amid its toil and strife. 


Sent us to rear ; 




Only a life to love 


Two more little feet 


While we are here ; 


To walk the dusty road ; 


Only a baby small. 


To choose where two paths meet — 


Never at rest ; 


The narrow and the broad. 


Small, but how dear to us, 
God knoweth best, 

Matthias Bake. 


Two more little hands 
To work for good or ill ; 




Two more little eyes, 


WINNIE. 


Another little will. 


Bless me ! here's another baby, 


Another heart to love, 
Eeceiving love again ; 


Just as cunning as can be. 
Eyes as blue as bonnie blue-bells, 


And so the baby came, 
A thing of joy and pain. 


Breath as sweet as rosemary. 


Lucy Evelina Ackekman. 



CHOOSING A NAME. 



221 



CHOOSING A NAME. 


NAMING THE BABY. 


I have got a new-born sister ; 


What shall we name the darling. 


I was nigh the first that kissed her. 


Who came to us one day ? 


When the nursing- woman brought her 


Shall we call her our little Mary, 


To papa, his infant daughter, 


Estelle, or Ida, or May ? 


How papa's dear eyes did ghsten ! 




She will shortly be to christen ; 


Mabel, or Saxon Edith, 


And papa has made the offer. 


Or Margaret, fairest pearl ? 


I shall have the naming of her. 


Will IsabeUe, taU and stately. 




Be fitting our little girl ? 


Now I wonder what would please her ; 




Charlotte, Julia, or Louisa ? 


Shall we call her gentle Alice, 


Ann and Mary, they're too common. 


Or Madge, for her dark brown hair ? 


Joan's too formal for a woman ; 


Is she like a Rose just opening, 


Jane's a prettier name beside ; 


Or a Lily pure and fair ? 


But we had a Jane that died. 




They would say, if 'twas Rebecca 


Shall we name her Helen, or Laura, 


That she was a little Quaker. 


Sweet Hope, or darling Grace ? 




Will Belle, Louise, or Anna 


Edith's pretty, but that looks 


Match best with the baby's face ? 


Better in old English books ; 




Ellen's left off long ago ; 


Lottie, or Hattie, or Jennie, 


Blanche is out of fashion now. 


Winnie, or romping Kate, 


None that I have named as yet 


Josephine, proud and stately. 


Are so good as Margaret ; 


Or Bertha, grave and sedate ? 


Emily is neat and fine ; 




What do you think of Caroline ? 


No name that just fits you, dearie. 




Then what shall the little one do ? 


How I'm puzzled and perplexed 


Must she wander, forlorn and name- 


W^hat to choose or think of next ! 


less. 


I am in a little fever 


The years of her life all through ? 


Lest the name that I should give her 




Should disgrace her or defame her — 


We will call you all sweet names, dar- 


I will leave papa to name her. 


ling, 


Maby Lamb. 


That are found in household lore ; 



222 



BABY-LAND. 



Should they be too small a number, 
We will study to make them more. 

We will call you our brown Snow- 
birdie, 

Fairy, and Daisy, and Elf, 
Darling, and Dottie, and Dimple, 

Names fitting your own sweet self. 

Some morn or propitious even' 
Shall bring you a name to bear ; 

Some name with a musical cadence 
Shall our little baby wear. 

Mes. E. C. Bates. 



OLD GAELIC LULLABY. 

Hush ! the waves are rolling in. 
White with foam, white with foam ; 

Father toils amid the din ; 
But baby sleeps at home. 

Hush ! the winds roar hoarse and 
deep — 

On they come, on they come ! 
Brother seeks the wandering sheep ; 

But baby sleeps at home. 

Hush ! the rain sweeps o'er the knowes, 
Where they roam, where they roam ; 

Sister goes to seek the cows ; 
But baby sleeps at home. 



CRADLE SONG. 



Sleep, bab}^ sleep ! 
Thy father's watching the sheep, 
Thy mother's shaking the dreamland 

tree. 
And down drops a little dream for thee. 

Sleep, baby, sleep ! 

Sleep, baby, sleep ! 
The large stars are the sheep. 
The little stars are the lambs, I guess. 
The bright moon is the shepherdess. 

Sleep, baby, sleep ! 

Sleep, baby, sleep ! 
And cry not like a sheep, 
Else the sheep -dog will bark and whine. 
And bite this naughty child of mine. 

Sleep, baby, sleep ! 

Sleep, baby, sleep ! 
Thy Saviour loves His sheep ; 
He is the Lamb of God on high 
Who, for our sakes, came down to die. 

Sleep, baby, sleep ! 

Sleep, baby, sleep ! 
Away to tend the sheep. 
Away, thou sheep-dog fierce and wild, 
And do not harm my sleeping child ! 

Sleep, baby, sleep ! 

Elizabeth Prentiss. 





SLEEP, BABT, SLKEP! 
223 



224 



BABY-IvAND. 



WEIGHING THE BABY. 

"How many pounds does the baby 
weigh — 
Baby who came but a month ago ? 




How many pounds, from the crowning 
curl 
To the rosy point of the restless toe ? 



Grandfather ties the 'kerchief's knot, 
Tenderly guides the swinging weight, 

And carefully over his glasses peers 
To read the record, " Only eight." 

Softly the echo goes around ; 

The father laughs at the tiny girl. 
The fair young mother sings the words. 

While grandmother smooths the 
golden curl, 

And stooping above the precious thing, 
Nestles a kiss within a prayer. 

Murmuring softly, " Little one. 

Grandfather did not weigh you fair." 

Nobody weighed the baby's smile. 
Or the love that came with the help- 
less one ; 

Nobody weighed the threads of care 
From which a woman's life is spun. 

No index tells the mighty worth 
Of little Baby's quiet breath, 

A soft, unceasing metronome, 
Patient and faithful unto death. 

Nobody weighed the baby's soul, 
For here on earth no weight may be 

That could avail ; God only knows 
Its value in eternity. 

Only eight pounds to hold a soul 
That seeks no angel's silver wing. 

But shines beneath this human guise. 
Within so small and frail a thing ! 

mother, laugh your merry note ; 
Be gay and glad, but don't forget 



NO BABY IN THE HOUSE. 



22 



From baby eyes looks out a soul 
That claims a home in Eden yet. 

Ethel Lynn Beeks. 



NO BABY IN THE HOUSE. 



No baby in the house I know, 

'Tis far too nice and clean. 
No toys, by careless fingers strewn, 

Upon the floors are seen. 
No finger-marks are on the panes, 

No scratches on the chairs ; 
No wooden men set up in rows. 

Or marshalled off in pairs ; 
No little stockings to be darned. 

All ragged at the toes ; 

No pile of mending to be done, 

Made up of baby-clothes ; 
No little troubles to be soothed ; 

No little hands to fold ; 
No grimy fingers to be washed ; 

No stories to be told ; 
No tender kisses to be given ; 

No nicknames — " Dove," and 
"Mouse;" 
No merry frolics after tea — 

No baby in the house ! 

Clara G. Dollivee. 



BABY BROTHER. 



Eight into our house one day, 

A dear little angel came ; 
I ran to him, and said softl}^ 

" Little angel, what is your name ? " 



He said not a word in answer. 
But smiled a beautiful smile. 

Then I said, "May I go home with 
you ? 
Shall you go in a little while ? " 



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But mamma said, "Dear little angel. 
Don't leave us ! Oh, always stay ! 

We will all of us love you dearly ! 
Sweet angel ! Oh, don't go away ! " 

So he staid, and he staid, and we 
loved him. 
As we could not have loved another, 



226 



BABY-LAND. 



Do you want to know what liis name is ? 
His name is — My little brother. 



THE KING OF THE NURSERY. 

Who is the king of the nursery ? 

Why, our darling baby boy. 
And every one tires to bring him 

Blessings of mirth and joy. 
Rowland and May are his subjects, 

Who are always ready to bring 
Homage and smiles and good service 

To the darling baby-king. 

They will gather the toys he has 
scattered. 

And bring them again to his hand ; 
And never think of withholding 

What the baby-king may demand. 



THE BABY'S REVERY. 

An exquisite little maiden 

With a head like a golden flower. 
She soberly stood at the window 

In the still, white twilight hour. 

"And what are you thinking, sweet- 
heart?" 

She was such a little child 
She could not answer the question ; 

She only dimpled and smiled. 

But I wondered, as she frolicked. 
Her mystic revery o'er, 



Was she a rose-shade less a child 
Than she had been before ? 

Yv^as she pausing, as a rosebud 
Seems pausing while it grows ? 

Had I caught the blooming minute 
Of a little human rose ? 

MAKT E. WlLKINS. 



THE BABY. 



Where did you come from, baby dear ? 
Out of the everywhere into the here. 

Where did you get your eyes so blue ? 
Out of the sky, as I came through. 

What makes the light in them sparkle 

and spin? 
Some of the starry spikes left in. 

Where did you get that little tear ? 
I found it waiting when I got here. 

What makes your forehead so smooth 

and high ? 
A soft hand stroked it as I went by. 

What makes your cheek like a warm, 

white rose ? 
Something better than any one knows. 

Whence that three-cornered smile of 

bhss ? 
Three angels gave me at once a kiss. 

Where did you get that pearly ear ? 
God spoke, and it came out to hear. 




THE KINf; OF 7HK NUHSKl.Y. 



228 



BABY-LAND. 



Where did \'ou get those arms and 

hands ? 
Love made itself into hooks and bands. 

Feet, whence did you come, darhng 

things ? 
From the same box as the cherub's 

wings. 

How did they all just come to be jou ? 
God thought about me, and so I grew. 

But how did you come to us, you dear '? 
God thought of yoK, and so I am here. 

Geokge MacDonald. 



LULU'S COMPLAINT. 

I'se a poor 'ittle sorrowful baby. 
For Bidget is 'way down stairs ; 



My titten has scatched my tin'er, 
And Dolly won't say her p'ayers. 

I hain't seen my bootiful mamma 

Since ever so long ado ; 
An' I ain't her tunninest baby 

No londer, for Bidget says so. 

Mamma's dot anoder new hahy; 

Dod dived it — he did — yes'erday ; 
And it kies, it kies — oh, so defful ! 

I wis' He would tate it away. 

I don't want no "sweet 'ittle sister;' 
I want my dood mamma, I do ; 

I want her to tiss me, and tiss me, 
An' tall me her p'ecious Lulu. 

I dess my dear papa will bin' me 
A 'ittle dood titten some day ; 




we've got a baby. 



229 



Here's nurse wid my mamma's new 
baby ; 
I wis' sbe would tate it away. 

Oh, oh ! what tunnin' red fin'ers ! 

It sees me 'ite out of its eyes ; 
I dess we will tcep it, and dive it 

Some can'y whenever it kies. 

I dess I will dive it my dolly 
To play wid 'mos' every day ; 

And I dess, I dess — Say, Bidget, 
Ask Dod not to tate it away. 



WE'VE GOT A BABY. 

We've got a baby ! I should like you 

to come 
Just to see the baby that we have at 

liome : 
Oh, it is such a baby ! with the bluest 

little eyes ! 

And its mouth ! you should only see 
its mouth when it cries ! 

Then it has such a hand ! — like mine, 
only smaller ; 

And it cannot walk yet, and our Pon- 
to is taller ! 

It has the queerest little feet, with 

the funniest little toes. 
And something which papa declares 

will grow into a nose. 
I saw it this morning — how it sucked 

its little thumb ! 



Oh, it is such a baby ! — now do, 

Charlie, come. 
Mother says you may see it, if you 

will not make a noise ; 
Just wait till nurse has gone down 

stairs; you know she hates us 

boys. 

Did you ever have a baby '? we have 

had ours a week ; 
Nurse says it soon will talk, but I 

never heard it speak. 
And what is strange, they let it cry 

and scream just when it pleases, 

And the more it cries, it seems to me 
the less mamma it teases. 

I know they make me creep about as 
quiet as a mouse : 

I tell you what, it's something — a 
baby in the house ! 

In ma's own room I scarcely dare to 

run across the floor, 
It's " Do be still, " or " Harry, hush, " 

or else, " Do shut the door. " 
I don't like nurse — she's always there, 

and says," Now, Harry, go, " 

Because I want to kiss mamma ; but 

I should like to know 
If she is not as much my ma, now, 

as a month ago ! 
She lets the baby have its way — 

blesses its little eyes — 

Coaxes and pets it all the more, the 
more it screams and cries. 



230 



BABY-LA XD. 



But it is just reversed with me ! I know 


For nurse looks at footmarks with a 


if I sliould take 


frown as black as thunder. 


Such airs on me as baby does the 




moment it's awake, 


And mutters to herself, "^\liat are 




mats for, I wonder ? " 


I should be sure to find myself in 


Now you must not make a noise — 


bed an hour too soon, 


please, Charlie, don't forget. 


Or have my hobby-horse locked up 


Papa can let us in — I am his boy yet. 


and kept an afternoon. 


Elizabeth W. Townsend. 


You have a brother ? What of that ? 




wait till you have a sister ! 






SLEEP, BABY MINE. 


I wish you had been at our house the 




first time that I kissed her ! 


Sleep, little baby of mine, 


Such a w^arm little mouth ! standing 


Night and the darkness are near ; 


wide open so. 
A boy's no great things — I'm one — I 


But Jesus looks down 


Through the shadows that frown, 


ought to knoAV ! 


And baby has nothing to fear. 


I'm glad she's a girl — I know all my 


Shut, little sleepy blue eyes, 


toys 


Dear little head be at rest ; 


Would last as long again but for 


Jesus, like you, 


rough little boys ! 


Was a baby once, too. 


But it's well you have one, since you 


And slept on His own mother's 


can't have the other. 


breast. 


Though I would not change my sister 


Sleep, little baby of mine. 


for any little brother. 


Soft on your pillow so white ; 


Perhaps a boy-baby is better than no 


Jesus is here 


baby at all. 


To watch over you, dear. 


But our baby's a girl. Did j^ou hear 


And nothing can harm you to-night. 


father call ? 






! little darling of mine, 


There he is, over yonder — just cross- 


What can you know of the bliss, 


ing the street ; 


The comfort I keep. 


We can go up-stairs with him. Oh, 


Awake and asleep, 


Charlie, wipe your feet ! 


Because I am certain of this? 



SWEET AND EOW, 



2.^,1 




SWEET AND LOW. 

Sweet and low, sweet and low, 

Wind of the Western Sea, 
Low, low, breathe and blow. 

Wind of the Western Sea ! 
Over the. rolling waters go ; 
Come from the dying moon and blow. 

Blow him again to me ; 
While my little one, while my pretty 
one, sleeps. 



Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, 
Father will come to thee soon ; 

Rest, rest, on mother's breast. 
Father w'ill come to thee soon ; 

Father will come to his bed in the nest, 

Silver sails all out of the west 
Under the silver moon ; 

Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty 
one, sleep. 

Alfeed Tennyson. 



232 



BABY-LAND 



CRADLE SONG. 

What is the httle one thinking about ? 
Very wonderful things, no doubt ; 

Unwritten history ! 

Unfathomed mystery ! 
Yet he laughs and cries, and eats, and 

drinks, 
And chuckles, and crows, and nods, 

and winks, 

As if his head were as full of kinks 
And curious riddles as any sphinx ! 
Warped by colic, and wet by tears. 
Punctured by pins, and tortured 

by fears. 
Our little nephew will lose two 

years ; 

And he'll never knew 

Where the summers go ; 
He need not laugh, for he'll find it so. 

Who can tell what a baby thinks ? 
Who can follow the gossamer links 
By which the manikin feels his way 
Out from the shore of the great 

unknown. 

Blind, and wailing, and alone 

Into the light of day '? 
Out from the shore of the unknown sea. 

Tossing in pitiful agony ; 

Of the unknown sea that reels and 

rolls, 
Specked with the barks of little souls — 
Barks that were launched on the 

other side, 



And slipped from heaven on an ebbing 

tide ! 
What does he think of his mother's 

eyes ? 
What does he think of his mother's 

hair ? 

What of the cradle-roof that Hies 
Forward and backward through the 

air? 
What does he tliink of his mother's 

breast. 

Bare and beautiful, smooth and 

white, 

Seeking it ever with fresh delight. 
Cup of his life, and couch of his rest '? 

What does he think when her quick 

embrace 
Presses his hand and buries his face 
Deep where the heart-throbs sink and 

swell. 
With a tenderness she can never tell, 

Though &he murmur the words 

Of ah the birds- 
Words she has learned to murnuir 

well ? 

Now he thinks he'll go to sleep ! 
I can see the shadow creep 
Over his eyes in soft eclipse, 
Over his brow and over his lips, 
Out to his little finger-tips ! 
Softly sinking, down he goes 
Down he goes ! down he goes ! 
See ! he's hushed in sweet repose. 

JosiAH Gilbert Holland. 



PHILLIP, MY KING. 



233 




PHILIP, MY KING. 



"Who bears upon liis baby brow the round 
And top of sovereignty." 

Look at me with thy large brown 

eyes, 

Phihp, my kmg ! 
Pound whom the enshadowing purple 

lies 
Of babyhood's royal dignities : 
Lay on my neck thy tiny hand, 
With Love's invisible sceptre laden ; 
I am thine Esther to command 



Till thou shalt find' a queen-hand- 
maiden, 

Philip,, my king ! 

Oh, the day when thou goest a-woo- 

ing, 

Phihp, my king! 
When those beautiful lips 'gin suing, 
And, some gentle heart's bars undo- 
ing, 
Thou dost enter, love-crowned, and 

there 
Sittest, love glorified ! — Pule kindly, 



234 



BABV-LAXD. 



Tenderly, over thy kingdom fair ; 
For we that love, ah ! we love so 
blindly, 

Philip, my king ! 

Up from thy sweet mouth up to thy 

brow, 

Philip, my king ! 
The spirit that there lies sleeping now 
May rise like a giant, and make men 

bow 
As to one heaven-choosen amongst his 

peers. 
My Saul, than thy brethren taller 

and fairer 
Let me behold thee in future years ! 
Yet thy head needeth a circlet 

rarer, 

Philip, my king — 

A wreath not of gold, but palm. 
One day, 

Philip, my king ! 
Thou, too, must tread, as we trod, a 

way 
Thorny, and cruel, and cold, and 

gi-ey ; 
Piebels w'ithin thee and foes without 
Will snatch at thy crown. But march 

on, glorious, 
Martyr, yet monarch ! till angels 

shout, 
As thou sitt'st at the feet of God 

victorious, 

"Philip, the king!" 

Dinah Maria Mulock Craik. 



BABY IS GOING TO BYLO-TOWN. 

Baby is going to Bylo-land 
Guided by mamma's own loving hand ; 
He needs no money his fare to pay. 
For babies go free to Nod-awa3\ 
Cuddle down, darling, cuddle down, 
We're going to Bylo-town. 

Mamma is holding him snug and warm, 
Piesting his little head on her arm ; 
Dimpled white hands still grasping his 

toy, 
Now fold them to rest, my baby boy. 
Piock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, gently and 

slow 
While mamma sings to him soft and 

low; 
Dainty white eyelids begin to droop 

down 
Over the laughing eyes, bonny and 

brown. 
Cuddle down, darling, cuddle down, 
We're going to Bylo-town. 

Lower they droop, and at last they 

close. 
Just like the soft petals of a rose ; 
Hushed now and quiet, the face so 

fair. 
No trace of sorrow or sin is there. 
Now he shall go to his little bed, 
Over him gently the soft cover spread ; 
Cosy and warm in his downy nest, 
Sweet be his dreams and quiet his 

rest. 



BABY'S COMPLAINT. 



'6:) 



Cuddle down, darling, cuddle down, 
We're going to Bylo-town. 

Father in Heaven, so loving and mild, 
I pray tliee, look down on my little 

child ; 
Bless him, and keep him from evil 

free. 
Till at last thou slialt say, 
"Come home to me." 

Claka Smith Colton. 



BABY'S COMPLAINT. 

Oh, mother, dear mother, no wonder I 

cry ! 
More wonder hy far that your baby 

don't die. 
No matter what ails me, no matter 

who's here, 
No matter how hungry the " poor little 

dear," 
No matter if full or all out of breath, 
She trots me, and trots me, and trots 

me to death ! 

I love my dear nurse, but I dread that 

great knee ; 
I like all her talk, but, woe unto me ! 
She can't be contented with talking so 

pretty, 
And washing, and dressing, and doing 

her duty ; 
And that's very well ; I can bear soap 

and water, 
But, mother, she is an unmerciful 

trotter ! 



Pretty ladies, I do want to look at your 

faces ; 
Pretty cap ! pretty fire ! let me see how 

it blazes ; 
How can I, my head is going bibity- 

bob? 
And she trots me the harder, the harder 

I sob. 
Oh, mother, do stop her ; I'm inwardly 

sore ! 
I hiccough and cry, and she trots me 

the more. 
And talks about wind, when 'tis she 

makes me ache ; 
Wish 'twould blow her away for poor 

Baby's sake ! 

Thank goodness, I'm still ! Oh blessed 

be quiet ! 
I'm glad my dear mother is willing to 

try it. 
Of foolish old customs, my mother's no 

lover. 
And the wisdom of this she can never 

discover. 
I'll rest me a while, and just look 

about, 
And laugh up at Sally, who peeps in 

and out. 
And pick uj) some notions as soon as 

I can. 
To fill my small noddle before I'm a 

man. 

Oh, dear ! is that she ? Is she coming 
so soon? 



236 



BABY-LAND. 



She's bringing my dinner with tea-cup 

and spoon ; 
She'll hold me with one hand, in 

t'other the cup, 
And, as fast as it's down, she'll just 

shake it up. 

And thumpity-thump ! with the great- 
est delight, 

Her head is going from morning to 
night ; 

All over the house you may hear it, I'm 
sure, 

Trot ! Trotting ! Just think what I am 
to endure ! 

L. J. H. 



'TIS NIGHT. 



'Tis night on the mountain, 

'Tis night on the sea. 
Mild dewdrops are kissing 

The bloom-covered lea ; 
Like plumes gently waving, 

The soft zephyrs creep ; 
The birds are all dreaming, 

Then sleep, darling, sleep. 

'Tis night on the mountain, 

'Tis night on the sea. 
Away in the distance. 

The stars twinkle free ; 
O'er all of His creatures. 

His watch He will keep. 
Who guardeth the sparrows — 

Then sleep, darling, sleep. 

Mary M. Bowen. 



HUSH-A-BY BABY. 



Hush-a-by, baby, the bees in the 

clover — 
The red, red clover — have fallen 

asleep. 
Swaying and swinging, now under, 

now over, 
In the red, red clover, 
So sweet and so deep. 

Hush-a-by, baby, the cows from the ♦ 
meadows — 

The green, green meadows — are loiter- 
ing home ; 

Their bells tinkle softly as through 
dew and shadows, 

From the green, green meadows, 

The}' loitering come. 

Hush-a-by, baby, the birds and the 

flowers — 
The sweet, sweet flowers — have fallen 

asleep ; 
They sway and they swing through 

the soft, dewy hours, 
The sweet, sweet flowers. 
In meadows so deep. 

Hush-a-by, baby, 'tis time you were 
sleeping. 

So sweet, sweetly sleeping in dream- 
land afar ; 

Low over the meadows the night mists 
are creeping, 

'Tis time you were sleeping. 

My baby, my star ! 

J. K. LUDLUM. 



LITTLE GOO-GOO. 



237 



LITTLE GOO-GOO. 


Is " Goo-goo-goo ! " with his baby 




might. 


We have in our house a brave little 




chap, 


" Dear little pitkin ! what is your 


Who loves to be in his dear mamma's 


name ? " 


lap ; 


But all the answer I get is the same. 


He is laughing and singing the whole 


" Oh ! what a name for a boy like 


day long, 


you ! " 


And " Goo-goo-goo ! " is all of his 


And he giggles and shouts his sweet 


song. 


" Goo-goo ! " 


In his nice little cradle-bed he 


He crows "Goo-goo!" before it is 


lies, 


light, 


Staring about with great, bright eyes ; 


And sings " Goo-goo ! " in the dead of 


" Baby, dear ! what are you singing 


the night ; 


about ? " 


It is " Goo-goo-goo ! " the whole day 


But " Goo-goo-goo " is all I make 


long. 


out. 


And J think" Goo-goo ! "is a beautiful 




song. 


He shakes his fists, and kicks his feet, 




Because he is waiting for something 


The little birdies say " Cheep ! cheep ! " 


to eat ; 


" Ba ! Ba ! Ba ! " says the baby-sheep ; 



And then speaks up, very loud and 

strong, 
And his " Goo-goo " means " I can't 

wait long. " 

I catch up the darling and throw 

him high. 
And he reaches his hands to touch the 

sky; 
But all that he says, to show his 

delight, 



But the sweetest song, I think — don't 

you ?— 
Is our little darling's " Goo-goo-goo ! " 

Oh, how precious is little Goo-goo ! 
And, oh, how we love him, little 

Goo-goo ! 
I pray that angels will guard him — 

don't you ? 
And Father in Heaven bless little 

Goo-goo ! 

Scott Campbell. 



238 



BABY-LAXD. 



OUR REAL RULER. 



This a free country ? 

Well, may be, 
So long as you haven't 

A baby. 

Young or old, tho' golden 

Or gray be 
Our heads, we're all ruled by 

A baby. 

Fond and foolish the words that 

We say be 
When we bow to that tyrant. 

The baby. 

The wise man's a fool and 

A gaby 
And a hobby-horse for his 

Own baby. 

But, of light in our homes, where' d 

A ray be 
Without the bright cherub, 

The baby? 

Then hallowed and blest let 

The day be 
That brought that dear despot. 

The baby ! 



BABY BELL. 

Have you not heard the poets tell 
How came the dainty Baby Bell 
Into this world of ours ? 
The Gates of Heaven were left ajar; 
With folded hands and dreamy eyes. 



Wandering out of Paradise, 
She saw this planet, like a star. 
Hung in the glistening depths of even,- 
Its bridges, running to and fro. 
O'er which the white-winged angels go. 
Bearing the holy dead to heaven. 
She touched a bridge of flowers, — those 

feet. 
So light they did not bend the bells 
Of the celestial asphodels. 
They fell like the dews upon the 

flowers : 
Then all the air grew strangely sweet ! 
And thus came dainty Baby Bell ! 
Into this Avorld of ours. 

She came, and brought delicious 

May. 
The swallows built beneath the eaves ; 
Like sunlight, in and out the leaves 
The robins went the livelong day ; 
The lily swung its noiseless bell ; 
And o'er the porch the trembling vine 
Seem'd bursting with its veins of wine. 
How sweetly, softly, twilight fell ! 
Oh, earth was full of singing birds 
And opening spring-tide flowers. 
When the dainty Baby Bell 
Came to this world of ours. 

Oh, Baby, dainty Baby Bell, 

How fair she grew from day to day ! 

What woman-nature fill'd her eyes, 

So full of meaning, pure and l)right 

As if she stood in the light 

Of those oped gates of Paradise. 

And so we loved her more and more : 




BABY EELL. 



240 



BABY-LAND. 



All, never in our hearts before 
Was love so lovely born ; 
We felt we had a link between 
This world and that unseen — 
The land beyond the morn ; 
And for the love of those dear eyes, 
The love of her whom God led forth, 
(The mother's being ceased on earth 
When Baby came from Paradise), — 
For love of Him who smote our lives, 
And woke the chords of joy and pain, 
We said, Dear Christ \ — our hearts 

bent down 
Like violets after rain. 

And now the orchards, which were 

white 
And red with blossoms when she came. 
Were rich in autumn's mellow prime ; 
And cluster'd apples burnt like flame. 
The soft-cheek'd peaches blush'd and 

fell, 
The ivory chestnut burst its shell, 
The grapes hung purpling in the 

grange ; 
And time wrought just as rich a change 
In little Baby Bell. 
Her lissome form more perfect grew. 
And in her features we could trace 
In soften'd curves, her mother's face. 
Her angel-nature ripen'd, too : 
We thought her lovely when she came. 
But she was holy, saintly now : — 
Around her pale, angelic brow 
We saw a slender ring of flame ! 
God's hand had taken away the seal 



That held the portals of her speech ; 
And oft she said a few strange words 
Wliose meaning lay beyond our reach. 
She never was a child to us, 
We never held her being's key ; 
We could not teach her holy things ; 
She was Christ's self in purity. 

It came upon us by degrees. 

We saw its shadow ere it fell, — 

The knowledge that our God had sent 

His messenger for Baby Bell. 

We shuddered with unlanguaged pain, 

And all our hopes were changed to fears, 

And all our thoughts ran into tears 

Like simshine into rain. 

We cried aloud in our belief, 

" Oh, smite us gently, gently, God ! 

Teach us to bend and kiss the rod. 

And perfect grow through grief. " 

Ah, how we love her, God can tell ; 

Her heart was folded deep in ours. 

Our hearts are broken, Bahj Bell ! 

At last he came, the messenger, 

The messenger from unseen lands : 

And what did dainty Baby Bell '? 

She only cross'd her little hands, 

She only looked more meek and fair ! 

AVe parted back her silken hair, 

We wove the roses round her brow, — 

Wlnte buds, the summer's drifted 

snow, — 

Wrapt her from head to foot in tiowers ! 

And thus went dainty Baby Bell 

Out of this world of ours ! 

Thomas Baily Aldkich. 



LULLABY 



241 



LULLABY. 

A song for the baby, sweet little Bo- 
peep ; 

Come, wee Willie Winkie, and sing 
him to sleep. 

Come toss her high up, and trot her 

low down ; 
This is the road to Brinklepeeptown. 

Come, press down her eyelids, and 
sing in her ear 

The wonderful songs that in Dream- 
land we hear, 

The chime of the waters, the drone of 
the bees, 

The tales that the blossoms are tell- 
ing the breeze. 

For, spite of her crowing and cooing, 

I see 
The baby is sleepy as sleepy can be. 

Down flutter the eyelids — dear little 

Bopeep, 
Now whist ! Willie Winkie, she's gone 

fast asleep. 

Shirley Dake. 



BABY MAY. 



Cheeks as soft as July peaches ; 
Lips whose velvet scarlet teaches 
Poppies paleness ; round, large eyes 
Ever great w^ith new surprise ; 
Minutes filled with shadeless glad- 
ness; 



Minutes just as brimmed with sad- 
ness ; 
Happy smiles and wailing cries. 
Crows and laughs and tearful eyes, 
Lights and shadows, swifter born 
Than on wind-swept autumn corn ; 
Ever some new tiny notion, 
Making every limb all motion. 
Catching up of legs and arms. 
Throwing back and small alarms, 
Clutching fingers — straightening 

jerks, 
Twining feet whose each toe works, 
Kicking up and straining risings, 
IMother's ever new surprisings ; 
Hands all wants, and looks all won- 
der 
At all things the heavens under ; 
Tiny scorns of smiled reprovings 
That have more of love than lovings ; 
Mischiefs done with such a winning 
Archness that we prize such sinning ; 
Breakings dire of plates and glasses, 
Graspings small at all that passes ; 
Pullings off of all that's able 
To 1)6 caught from tray or table ; 
Silence — small meditations 
Deep as thoughts of cares for na- 
tions — 
Breaking into wisest speeches 
In a tongue that nothing teaches. 
All the thoughts of whose possessing 
Must be wooed to light by guess- 
ing ; 
Slumbers — such sweet angel — seem- 
ings 



242 



BABY-LAND. 







tfW 



That we'd ever have such dreamings, 
Till from sleep we see thee breaking, 
And we'd always have thee waking ; 
Wealth for which we know no 

measure, 
Pleasure high above all pleasure, 
Gladness brimming over gladness, 
Joy in care — delight in sadness. 
Loveliness beyond completeness, 
Sweetness distancing all sweetness. 



Beauty all that beauty be, 

That's May Bennett ; that's my baby. 

William C. Bennett. 



BABY FINGERS. 

Ten little fat fingers so rosy and sweet ! 
Ten fat little fingers so taper and neat ; 
Eagerly reaching for all that comes 
near, 



LITTLE Dora's soliloquy. 



243 



Now poking your eyes out, and pulling 

your hair, 
Soothing and patting with velvet-like 

touch, 
Then digging your cheek with a mis- 
chievous clutch; 
Gently waving good-by with infantile 

grace, 
Then dragging your bonnet down over 

your face. 
Beating pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, slow 

and sedate, 
Thentearingyour book at a furiousrate ; 
Gravely holding them out, like a king 

to be kissed. 
Then thumping the window with 

tightly-closed fist ; 
Now lying asleep, all dimpled and 

warm. 
On the white cradled pillow, secure 

from all harm. 
0, dear baby hands ! how much love 

you enfold 
In the weak, careless sleep of those 

fingers' soft hold ! 
Keep spotless as now, tlu'ough the 

world's evil ways 
And bless with fond care our last 

weariful days ! 

Mrs. Bichakd Grant Whitk. 



OURS. 



Bright in the early morning 
His brown eyes open wide, 

And there's never a wink more slumber 
To be thought of at his side, 



LITTLE DORA'S SOLILOQUY. 

I tan't see what our baby boy is dood 

for anjrway ; 
He don't know how to walk or talk, 

he don't know how to play ; 
He tears up ev'ry single zing he pos- 

ser-bil-ly tan. 
An' even tried to break, one day, my 

mamma's bestes fan. 

He's al'ays tumblin' 'bout ze floor, 

an' gives us a\\^ul scares. 
An' when he goes to bed at night, he 

never says his prayers. 
On Sunday, too, he musses up my 

go-to-meetin' clothes. 
An' once I foun' him hard at work 

a-pinc'in' Dolly's nose ; 

An' ze ozzer day zat naughty boy (now 

what you s'pose j^ou zink ?) 
Upset a dreat big bottle of my papa's 

writin' ink ; 
An' 'stead of kyin' dood an' hard, as 

course he ought to done. 
He laughed, and kicked his head 'most 

off, as zough he zought 't was 

fun. 

He even tries to reach up high, an' 

pull zings off ze shelf, 
An' he's al'ays wantin' ijoii, of course, 

jus' when you wants you'self. 
I rather dess, I really do, from how he 

pulls my turls, 



244 



A MOTHER'S DIARY. 




Zey all was made a-purpose for to 'noy 
us little diiis ; 

An' I wish zere wasn't no such zing as 

naughty baby boys 

Why — why, zat's him a-kyin' now; 

he makes a drefful noise. 
I dess I better run and see, for if he 

has — boo-hoo ! — 
Failed down ze stairs and killed his- 

self, whateverss-s'all I do ! 



A MOTHER'S DIARY. 

Morning ! Baby on the floor, 
Making for the fender ; 

Sunhght seems to make it sneeze ; 
Baby on a " bender ! " 

All the spools upset and gone, 

Chairs drawn into file, 
Harness strings all strung across, 

Ought to make one smile. 



BABV CLARA. 



545 



Apron clean, curls smooth, eyes blue ; 

(How these charms will dv/indle !) 
For I rather think — don't you — 

Baby " is a swindle ? " 

Noon ! A tangled silken floss 

Getting in blue eyes ; 
Aprons never will keep clean 

If a baby tries ! 

One blue shoe untied, and one 

Underneath the table ; 
Chairs gone mad, and blocks and toys 

Well as they are able. 

Baby in a high-chair, too, 

Waiting for his dinner. 
Spoon in mouth ; I think — don't 
you — 

Baby "is a sinner?" 

Night ! Chairs all set back again, 
Blocks and spools in order ; 

One blue shoe beneath a mat 
Tells of a marauder ; 

Apron folded on a chair, 

Plaid dress torn and wrinkled ; 

Two pink feet kicked partly bare, 
Little fat knees crinkled ; 

In his crib, and conquered, too, 
By sleej), heaven's best evangel. 

Now I surely think — don't you — 
"Baby is an angel?" 



BABY CLARA. 

Baby Clara, dressed so warm. 
What cares she for wind and storm ? 
Sleigh-bells jingling as we go 
Skimming o'er the ice and snow. 




Baby Clara laughs in glee. 
As we glide so merrily. 
Jolly fun, she thinks, to ride, 
With her brother by her side. 

Baby Clara, sister mine. 
Whose soft arms my neck entwine. 
On my cheeks so lovingly 
Sweetest kisses gives to me. 

Rosy lips and golden hair. 
Dark blue eyes, and cheeks so fair ; 
To us all her smile brings bliss, 
Darling Clara, baby sis. 



246 



BABY-LAND. 




IF I COULD KEEP HER SO. Blue eyes asking questions, lips that 

-r . vixi 1 1 T^ • I cannot speak, 

Just a little baby, lying m my arms — „-,■,■, -,■ -, 

Would that I couW keep you with ' KoUy-poUy shoulders, dimple on your 

your baby charms ; ^^^®^ ' , , , 

TT 1 1 T • n A^^, , Dainty little blossom in a world 01 

Helpless, clinging fingers, downy, -l^'^^^^j' 

golden hair, ' ^°^' 

Where the sunshine lingers, caught 

from otherwhere ; 



Thus I fain would keep you, for I love 
you so. 



IK I COULD KEEP HER SO. 



247 



Roguish little damsel, scarcely six 

years old — 
Feet that never weary, hair of deeper 

gold; 
Restless, busy fingers, all the time at 

Tongue that never ceases talking all 
the day; 

Blue eyes learning wonders of the 
world about. 

Here you come to tell them — what an 
eager shout ! 

Winsome little damsel, all the neigh- 
bors know ; 

Thus I long to keep you, for I love 
you so. 

Sober little school-girl, with your bag 

of ])ooks. 
And such grave importance in your 

puzzled looks ; 
Solving weary problems, poring over 

sums, 
Yet with tooth for sponge-cake, and for 

sugar-plums ; 
Reading books of romance in your bed 

at night, 
Waking up to study with the morning 

light; 
Anxious as to ribbons, deft to tie a 

bow. 

Full of contradictions — I would keep 
you so. 



Sweet and thoughtful maiden, sitting 

by my side. 
All the world's before you, and the 

world is wide ; 
Hearts are there for winning, hearts 

are there to break, 
Has your own, shy maiden, just begun 

to wake ? 
Is that rose of dawning glowing on your 

cheek 
Telling us in blushes what you will 

not speak? 
Shy and tender maiden, I would fain 

forego 
All the golden future, just to keep 

you so. 

Ah ! the listening angels saw that she 

was fair, 
Ripe for rare unfolding in the upper 

air ; 
Now the rose of dawning turns to lily 

white, 
And the close-shut eyelids veil the 

eyes from sight ; 
All the past I summon as I kiss her 

brow — 
Babe and child and maiden, all are 

with me now. 
Oh ! my heart is breaking ; but God's 

love I know — 
Safe among the angels. He will keep 

her so. 

Louise Chandler Moulton, 



248 



BABY-LAND. 



BABY LOUISE. 

I'm in love with you, Baby Louise ! 
With your silken hair, and soft blue 

eyes, 
And the dreamy wisdom that in them 

lies, 



Are you trying to think of some angel- 
taught prayer 
You learned above. Baby Louise ? 

I'm in love with you, Baby Louise ! 
Why ! you never raise your beautiful 
head ! 




And the faint, sweet smile you brought 
from the skies — 
God's sunshine. Baby Louise. 

When you fold your hands. Baby 

Louise, 
Your hands, like a fairy's, so tiny and 

fair, 
With a pretty, innocent, saint-like air, 



Some day, little one, your cheek will 

grow red 
With a flush of delight, to hear the 

words said, 
"I love you," Baby Louise. 

Do you hear me. Baby Louise ? 
I have sung your praises for nearly an 
hour, 



baby's skies. 



249 



And your lashes keep drooping lower 

and lower, 
And — 3'ou've gone to sleep, like a 

weary flower, 
Ungrateful Baby Louise ! 

M. E. 



BABY'S SKIES. 



A Word to Mother. 



Would you know the baby's skies ? 
Baby's skies are Mother's eyes. 
Mother's eyes and smile together 
Make the baby's pleasant weather. 

Mother, keep your eyes from tears. 
Keep your heart from foolish fears, 
Keep your lips from dull complain- 
ing 
Lest the baby think 't is raining. 



ALL ALONE. 

Two pink feet, 
Wee chubby toes, 

A mouth as sweet 
As any rose. 

Fat, dimpled cheek, 
Twin eyes of gray, 

That seem to speak 
In helpless way. 

Without the power 
To tell its need 



Which every hour 

True love must heed ; 

'Mid smiles and tears, 
And many a mood — 

So pass the days 
Of babyhood. 



JUST AS FAT. 

Just as fat 

Is my little man. 

Who eats and sleeps 

And does all that. 

With dimpled chin 

And cheeks like bubbles. 

He knows no care, 

And has no troubles. 

Yes, he's fat. 

Is my little man, 

Who wdnks and blinks 

And does all that. 

With double chin 

And cheeks like bubbles, 

He's far too fat 

For baby troubles. 

Just as fat ! 

How pretty liis cheeks ! 

So jolly plump. 

And pink at that. 

Tickle his chin 

And touch those bubbles, 

And you'll see why 

He has no troubles. 

Wm. B. Olesov. 



250 



BABY-LAND. 




THE BABY. 

No shoe to hide her tiny toes, 
No stockings on lier feet ; 

Her supple ankles white as snow 
Of early blossoms sweet. 

Her simple dress of sprinkled pink, 
Her double, dimpled chin ; 

Her -puckered lip and bonnie mouth, 
With not one tooth between. 

Her eye so like her mother's eye, 
Two gentle, liquid things ; 

Her face is like an angel's face — 

We're glad she has no wings. 

Hugh Millek. 



BABY'S SHOES. 

!, those little, those little blue shoes ! 

Those shoes that no little feet use. 
!, the price were high 
That those shoes would buy, 

Those little blue, unused shoes ! 

For they hold the small shape of feet 
That no more their mother's eyes meet, 

That, by God's good will. 

Years since, grew still. 
And ceased from their totter so sweet. 

And !, since that baby slept, 

So hushed, how the mother has kept, 

With a tearful i)leasure. 

That little dear treasure, 
And o'er them thought and wept ! 



mother's kisses. 



251 



For they mind her forevermore 
Of a patter along the floor ; 

And blue eyes she sees 

Look up from her knees 
With the look that in life they wore. 

As they lie before her there, 
There babbles from chair to chair 

A little sweet face 

That's a gleam in the place, 
With its little gold curls of hair. 

Then, wonder not that her heart 
From all else would rather part 

Than those tiny blue shoes 

That no little feet use, 
And whose sight makes such fond tears 
start! 

William C. Bennett. 



MOTHER'S KISSES, 

Kisses for the lovely dimples, 
Two wee lily-cups are they ; 

Kisses for the mouth so precious. 
Sweeter than the new-mown hay. 

Kisses for the eyes so merry, 
Violet's all dipped in dew ; 

Kisses for the pink- white fingers, 
Prettier the earth ne'er knew. 

Kisses for the head so silken, 
With its little bird-like ways ; 

Kisses for the braw so snowy. 
Where a shadow never strays. 




Kisses, — one wide world of kisses ! 

Could I have enough, dear, say, 
Though I kissed you, kissed you, 
kissed you, 

Yes, forever and a day? 

Geokge Cooper. 



ALL ABOARD FOR SHUT-EYE 
TOWN. 



Ho ! ho ! there, — all aboard for "Shut- 
Eye-Town ! " 

The brakes are all u^), the signals 
pulled down ; 

How silvery and soft the conductor's 
last note, 



252 



BABY-LAND. 



A.S over the ear the sweet syllables 


Friends witli caresses and sweet, lov- 


float: 


ing words ; 


Bye-lo, bye-loto " Shut-Ej-e-Town." 


Bye-lo, bye-lo to " Slmt-Eye-Town." 


Oh ! a wonderful city is "Shut-Eye- 


Oh ! never was city so sunny as this ; 


Towii." 


Be quick, or its pleasures you surely 


Then haste in your dainty white 


will miss, 


travelling gown ; 


And never, I know, was conductor so fair 


No baskets of luncheon or wraps will 


As the one who is waiting to usher us 


you need, 


there. 


For this train's going through with 


Bye-lo, bye-lo to "Shut-Eye-Town." 


lightning-like speed. 




Bye-lo ! bye-lo to "Shut-Eye-Town." 


MY NAUGHTY. 


Fairies and brownies are waiting us 


Oh dear ! oh dear ! what have we here ? 


there, 
Jewels and rainbows, and blossoms so 


A very ugly sight ! 
Mamma's own little baby boy 


rare. 


Kicking with all his might ! 


Soft summer breezes, and bright sing- 


In temper doll and bells and toys 


ing-birds, 


Are thrown to left and right. 




Baby Days 



AND 



Baby Plays. 



BABY DAYS and BABY BLAYS. 




iiAHVS HAY. 



BABY'S DAY. 



The reason I call it "Baby's Day" is 
funny enough to tell ; 



The first thing she did was give 
" syrup of squills" to Dolly to 
make her well ; 



255 



256 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



And then when I told her how wrong 

it was, she said, with a quivering 

sigh, 
" I'm sorry I made her so sticky, 

mamma, but I couldn't let dolly 

die." 

Then comforted wholly she went 
away, and was just as still as a 
mouse, 

And I thought to he sure I should find 
her at once in the nursery play- 
ing " house"; 

But, lo ! on the way as I started to 
look, a queer little piece I found, 

Just like a center of snowy lawn that 
the scissors had scalloped round. 

I cried " 0, baby ! what have you 
done ? You have been to some- 
body's drawer, 

And taken from out of the handker- 
chief pile the most beautiful one 
that you saw !" 

And then the dear little head went 
down pathetic as it could be. 

While she sobbed, " There was noth- 
ing for me to cut, and I thought 
I'd take two or three ! " 

It was only a little later on, that the 
water began to splash. 

And I jumped and found she was 
rubbing away on her sister's holi- 
day sash; 

But, catching a look of utter dismay, 
as she lifted her innocent eyes. 



She whispered, "Don't worry, I'll wash 
it all clean, and hang it up till it 
dries." 

But the funny mishaps of that won- 
derful day I could not begin to 
relate ; 

The boxes of buttons and pins she 
spilled, like a cherub pursued by 
fate! 

And still, all the while, the dear little 
dove was fluttering 'round her 
nest. 

And the only thing I really could do 
was to smooth out her wings on 
my breast. 

But the day drifted on till it came to 

an end, and the great moon rose 

in sight, 
And the dear soft lids o'er the dear 

soft eyes dropped tenderly their 

good night. 
And I thought, as I looked on her 

lying asleep, I was glad (for once 

in a way). 
That my beautiful child was human 

enough for a mischievous " Baby 

Day." 



MY LITTLE SISTER. 



I have a little sister. 

She's only two years old, 

But she's a little darling, 

And worth her weight in gold. 



PLAY TIME. 



^0/ 



She often nms to kiss me 
When I'm at work or play, 

Twining her arms about me 
In such a pretty way ; 

And then she'll say so sweetly, 

In innocence and jo}', 
" Tell me a story, sister dear, 

About the little boy." 

Sometimes when I am knitting 
She'll pull my needles out, 

And then she'll skip and dance around 
With such a merry shout. 

It makes me laugh to see her, 

Though I'm not very glad 
To have her take my needles out. 

And make my work so bad ; 

But then if I would have her 
To see what she has done, 

I must be very gentle 

While telling her the wrong. 



PLAY TIME. 



The rain is falling fast to-day, 
So we must stay up here and play ; 
Mamma says we must not go out, 
She'll give us all our toys, no doubt, 

Our dollies will make one nice game ;'' 
We'll play they're ill, one shall be lame. 
And you shall be the doctor, Kate, 
And carefully shall operate. 



Then we will feed the fishes, dear. 
Or make us each a little spear. 
And play we're in the Northern Sea 
Harpooning whales. Do you agree ? 



' C:M' /m 




•Johnnie can have his ball and string. 
To play with puss, the cunning thing. 
So we shall all be bright and ga}'. 
Though it is such a rainy da}'. 



THE PROPER TIME. 

"Will you play with me ? Will you 

play with me ?" 
A little girl said to the birds on a tree. 
"Oh, we have our nests to build," said 

they : 
"There's a time for work, and a time 

for play." 

Then meeting a dog, she cried, "Hal- 
loo ! 

Come play with me, Jip, and do as I 
do." ' 



258 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



Said he, "I must watch the orchard 

to-day : 
There's a time for work, and a time 

for play." 

A boy she saw ; and to him she cried, 
"Come, phiy with me, Jolm, by the 

greenwood side." 
"Oh, no !" said John, "I've my lesson 

to say : 
There's a time for work, and a time 

for play." 




Then thoughtful a while stood the 

little miss, 
And said, "It is hard, on a day like 

this. 
To go to work ; but, from what they 

all say, 
'Tis a time for work, and not for play." 

So homeward she went, and took her 

book, 
And first at the pictures began to look ; 
Then said, "I think I will study to-day : 
There's a time for work, and a time 

for play." 

Emily Cabtek. 



FATHER AT PLAY. 

Such fun as we had one rainy day, 
When father was home and helped us 

play 
And made a ship and hoisted sail. 
And crossed the sea in a fearful gale I 

But we hadn't sailed into London 
town. 

When the captain and crew, and ves- 
sel went down, 

Down, down in a jolly wreck, 

With the captain rolling under the 
deck. 

But he broke out again with a lion's 

roar. 
And we on two legs, he on four, 
Ean out of the parlor and up the 

stair. 
And freightened mamma and the baby 

there. 

So mamma said she would be p'lice- 

man now, 
And tried to 'rest us. She didn't 

know how. 

Then the lion laughed, and forgot to 

roar, 
Till we chased him out of the nursery 

door ; 

And then he turned to a pony-gay. 
And carried us all on his back away. 
Whippsty, lickity, kickity, ho ! 
If we hadn't fun, then I don't know. 



mamma's kisses. 



259 



Till we tumbled off, and lie cantered 

on, 
Never st()})pin!^ to see if his load was 

gone. 

And I couldn't tell any more than he 
Which was Charlie and which was 
me, 

Or which was Towser, for, all in a 

mix, 
You'd think three people had turned 

to six. 

Till Towser's tail had caught in the 

door ; 
He wouldn't hurrah with us any 

more ; 

And mamma came out the rumpus to 

quiet, 
And told us a story to break up the 

riot. 

Hannah More Johnson. 



MAMMA'S KISSES. 

A kiss when I awake in the morning, 

A kiss when I go to bed, 
A kiss when I bprn my fingers, 

A kiss when [ bump my head. 

A kiss when, my b-ith is over, 
A kiss when my bath begins ; 

My mamma is full of kisses, 
As full as nurse is of pins. 

A kiss when I play with a rattle, 
A kiss when I pull her hair ; 




MAMMA'S KISSES. 



2 6o 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



She covered me over with kisses 
The day that I fell down stairs. 

A kiss when I give her trouhle, 
A kiss when I give her joy ; 

There's nothing like mamma's kisses 
To her own little baby-boy. 



ONE OF HIS NAMES. 

Never a boy had so many names ; 
They called him Jimmy, and Jim, and 

James, 
Jeems and Jamie ; and well he knew 
"Who it was that wanted him, too. 

The boys in the street ran after him. 
Shouting out loudly, "Jim ! Hey, 

J-i-m-m ! " 
Until the echoes, little and big, 
Ssemed to be dancing a Jim Crow jig. 

And little Mabel out in the hall 
"Jim-w?// Jim-m^.' " would sweetly call, 
Until he answered, and let her know 
Where she might find him ; she loved 
him so. 

Grandpapa, who was so dignified, 
And held his head with an air of pride. 
Didn't balieve in abridging names. 
And made the most that he could of 
"J-a-m-e-s." 

But if papa ever wanted him. 
Crisp and curt was the summons 
"Jim ! " 



That would make the boy on his er- 
rands run 

Much faster than if he had said " My 
son." 

Biddy O'Flynn could never, it seems. 
Call him anything else but "Jeems," 
And when the nurse, old Mrs. McVyse, 
Called him "Jamie," it sounded nice. 

But sweeter and dearer than all the 

rest, 
Was the one pet name that he liked 

the best; 
" Darling ! " - — he heard it whate'er he 

was at. 
For none but his mother called him 

that. 

Josephine Pollakd . 



VOYAGE IN THE ARM CHAIR. 

Oh, papa ! dear papa ! we've had such 
a fine game, 
We played at a sail on the sea ; 
The old arm-chair made such a beau- 
tiful ship. 
And it sailed, oh, as nice as could be. 

We made Mary the captain, and Bob 
was the boy 
Who cried, "JEase her," and "Back 
her," and "Slow;" 
And Jane was the steersman Avho 
stands at the wheel. 
And I watched the engines below. 



baby-boy's toys. 



261 



We had for a passenger grandmam- 
ma's cat, 
And as Tom couldn't pay, be went 
free ; 
From the hreside we sailed at half- 
past two o'clock, 
And we got to the sideboard at three. 

But oh ! only think, dear papa, when 
halfway 
Tom overboard jumped to the floor, 
And though we cried out, "Tom, come 
back, don't be drowned," 
He galloped right out of the door. 

But papa, dear papa, listen one mo- 
ment more, 
Till I tell you the end of the sail : 
From the sideboard we went at live 
minutes past three, 
And at four o'clock saw such a 
whale ! 

The whale was the sofa, j;nd it, dear 
papa, 
Is at least twice as large as our ship ; 
Our captain called out, "Turn the 
ship round about ! 
Oh, I wish we had not come on this 
trip !" 

And we all cried, "Oh yes, let us get 
away home. 
And hide in some corner quite snug ;" 
So we sailed for the fireside as quick 
as we could. 
And we landed all safe on the ma. 



BABY-BOY'S TOYS. 

"All tumbled down ! my doll, my horse : 
So I'm angry about it all, of course ; 
And how to get them I don't know, 




For I'm so high and they're so low. 
Look at my socks ! I've only one on — 
The other the blue knitted one, has 

gone : 
It has dropped on the floor with all 

ni}'- toys : 



262 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



So I'm going to cry and to make a 

noise, 
Then mother and nurse will run to see 
What the matter with baby-boy can be." 
So said master baby, and set up a roar 
That soon brought mother and nurse 

to the door. 



DOCTOR'S VISIT. 

LITTLE MAMMA, WITH A SICK DOLL. 

Come and see my baby dear ; 
Doctor she is ill, I fear. 
Yesterday, do what I would, 
She would touch no kind of food, 
And she tosses, moans, and cries. 
Doctor, what do you advise '? 

DOCTOR. 

Hum ! ha ! Good madam, tell me, pray. 
What have you offered her to-day ? 
Ah yes, I see — a piece of cake ; 
The worst thing you could make her 

take. 
Just let me taste. Yes, yes, I fear 
Too many plums and currants here ; 
But stop ! I will just taste again, 
So as to make the matter plain. 

LITTLE MAMMA. 

But, doctor, pray excuse me ; oh, 
You've eaten all my cake up now ! 
I thank you kindly for your care. 
But do you think 'twas hardly fair '? 

DOCTOR. 

Oh, dear me ! Did I eat the cake ? 
Well, it was for dear baby's sake. 



But keep her in her bed, well warm. 
And you will see she'll take no harm. 
At night and morning use, once more, 
Her drink and powder as before ; 
And she must not be over-fed. 
But may just have a piece of bread. 
To-morrow, then, I dare to say. 
She'll be quite right. Good-day ! good 
day! 



BABY NED. 



Never still a minute, 

Busy baby Ned ; 
Brimming full of mischief 

Is his curly head. 



— .--'Sj 







Once he took his kitten 
Out to play with him, 

To a stream of water ; — 
" Dus' to see her 'fim. " 



MY GOOD FOR NOTHING. 



263 



"You mus' mind me, Tabb}', 

What I say to you ; 
Doin' to teach j'ou somefin'." 

Kitty answered, " mew. " 

" When I frow you over, 
You mus' 'fim right out. 

Now I's dettin ready, — 
! you's awful 'tout." 

Floohsh Utile Neddie, — 

Kitty made a dash, 
Caught him on his apron, 

In they both went, — splash ! 

Kitty scratched and scrambled ; 

Baby screamed and cried ; 
Both were taken dripping 

To the fire, and dried. 

" Naughty tat," said Neddie, 

" I's as'amed of you ; 
Now, you's dettin' punis'ed." 

Kitty answered, " mew." 



MY-GOOD-FOR-NOTHING. 

*'What are 3'ou good for, m^^ brave 

little man ? 
Answer that question for me, if you 

can — 
Y'^ou, with your fingers as white as a 

nun. 
You, with your ringlets as bright as 

the sun. 

All the day long, with your busy con- 
triving, 



Into all mischief and fun you are 

driving ; 
See if your wase little noddle can tell 
What you are good for. Now jjonder 

it well." 




Over the carpet the dear little feet 

Came with a patter to climb on my seat ; 

Two merry eyes, full of frolic and 
glee. 

Under their lashes looked up unto me ; 

Two little hands, pressing soft on my 
face. 

Drew me down close in a loving em- 
brace ; 

Two rosy lips gave the answer so true, 

" Good to love you, mamma — good to 
love you." 

Emily Huntington Miller. 



A MOTHER SINGING. 

I heard a mother singing, 

Music soft and sweet, 
'Twas "Father, keep my darling, 

Guide his little feet." 



26. 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



DOLL-HOUSE TROUBLES. 

My dear sister Nina 
You'll find here a letter 

From sister Regina : 
I wish it were better. 

Arabella Anastatia 

Is a very naughty doll. 

I really can't take care of her — 
She won't behave at all. 

This morning when I called her 
And told her she must dress, 

She began to cry for mamma ; 
You must come back, I guess ! 

I don't see what possessed her 
To act in such a manner, 

She nearly drove me crazy ; 
In fact, I had to fan her ! 

I couldn't put her shoes on ; 

She kicked ! — The naughty girl. 
She woudn't let me wash her, 

Or put her hair in curl. 

I told her that I loved her ; 

But she would not mind a bit. 
So I put her in the corner. 

And there I made her sit. 

You know when one is naughty 

The others act so, too ; 
And Mary Ann, Aunt Nancy, 

And Pansy cried for you. 

Oh, dear ! I cannot stand it. 
They're making such a noise ; 



They're tearing up their dresses, 
And breaking all the toys. 

Don't stay another minute, 

But pack your trunk, my dear, 

And hasten to your dollies ; 
They'll all be sick, I fear ! 



THE RICH LITTLE DOLLY. 

Her hair was yellow, her cheeks were 

red. 
But "you mustn't touch her," they 

always said, 

—This rich little dolly. 

Over her dress of satin and silk 
She wore a necklace as white as milk, 
— This rich little dolly. 

Her foot (like the foot of a Cinderella) 
Was daintily shod, as becomes full 
well a 

Rich httle dolly. 

But nobody asked her out to dine, 
She was by far too fair and fine, 
—This rich little dolly. 

Nobody sent, to a birthday party, 
Invitations old-fashioned and hearty 
To this little dolly. 

Nobody, when her heart was "b'oke," 
Cuddled close up to it under her cloak. 
This rich little dolly. 



THE DOLL-BABY SHOW 



265 



But up in a mould}', musty drawer, 
Where nobody kissed her and nobody 
saw her, 

Stayed the poor, poor dolly. 

Anna F. Burnham. 



THE DOLL-BABY SHOW. 

Our doll-baby show, it was something 

quite grand ; 
You saw there the loveliest doll in the 

land. 



Some came in rich purple, some lilac, 

some white, 
With ribbons and laces — a wonderful 

sight ! 

Now, there was one dolly so tall and 

so proud 
She put all the others quite under a 

cloud ; 
But one of us hinted, in so many 

words. 
That sometimes fine feathers did not 

make fine birds. 




Each girl brought her own in its pret- I We sat in a row with our dolls in our 

tiest dress ; j^pg . 

Three pins bought a ticket, and not a rp^^^ ^^^^l^ behaved sweetly, and met 

pni le^s. I j^Q mishaps. 

For the doll that was choicest we of- No boys were admitted — f(n- boys will 

fered a prize ; make fun ; 

There were wee mites of dollies, and Now which do you think was the dolly 

some of great size ; that won ? 



266 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



Soon all was commotion to hear who 

would get 
The prize ; for the dollies' committee 

had met ; 
We were the comcaittee ; and which do 

you think 
Was the doll we decided on, all in a 

wink *? 

Why, each of us said that our own 
was the best. 

The finest, the sweetest, the prettiest 
drest ; 

So we all got the jn-ize. We'll invite 
you to go 

The next time we girls have our doll- 
baby show. 

Geoege Cooper. 



A LITTLE GIRL'S LETTER. 



Dear Grandma, I will try to write 

A very little letter : 
If I don't spell the words all right. 

Why, next time I'll do better. 

My little rabbit is alive. 

And likes his milk and clover ; 
He likes to see me very much, 

But is afraid of Rover. 

I've got a dove, as white as snow, 
I call her *' Polly Feather ; " 

She flies and hops about the yard 
In everv kind of weather. 



I think she hkes to see it rain. 

For then she smoothes her jacket. 

And seems to be so proud and vain. 
The turkeys make a racket. 

The hens are picking off the grass. 

And singing very loudly ; 
While our old peacock struts about, 

And shows his colors proudly. 

I guess I'll close my letter now, 
I've nothing more to tell ; 

Please answer soon, and come to see 
Your loving little Nell ! 

Wisconsin Farmer. 



THE DEAD DOLL 



You needn't be trying to comfort me — 

I tell you my dolly is dead ! 
There's no use in saying she isn't — 

with a crack like that in her head. 
It's just like you said it wouldn't hurt 

much to have my tooth out that 

day ; 
And then when the man most pulled 

myheadotf, you hadn't a word to 

say. 

And I guess you must think I'm a ba- 
by, when you say you can mend 
it with glue ! 

As if I didn't know better than that ! 
Why, just suppose it was you ? 

You might make her look all mended — 
but what do I care for looks ? 



THE DEAD DOLL. 



267 



Why, glue's for chairs and tables, and 
toys, and the backs of books ! 

My dolly ! my own little daughter ! Oh, 

but it's the awfullest crack ! 
It just makes me sick to think of the 

sound when her poor head went 

whack 
Against that horrible brass thing that 

holds up the little shelf. 




Now, Nursey, what makes you remind 
me ? I know that I did it myself ! 

I think you must be crazy — you'll get 

her another head ! 
What good would forty heads do her ? 

I tell vou mv dolly is dead ! 



And to think I hadn't quite finished 
her elegant New Year's hat ! 

And I took a sweet ribbon of hers last 
night to tie on that horrid cat ! 

When my mamma gave me that rib- 
bon — I was playing out in the 
yard- 
She said to me most expressly : "Here's 

a ribbon for Hildegarde." 
And I went and put it on Tabby, and 

Hildegarde saw me do it ; 
But I said to myself, "Oh, never mind, 
I don't believe she knew it !" 

But I know that she k new it now, and 

I just believe, I do, 
That her poor little heart was broken, 

and so her head broke too. 
Oh, my baby ! my little baby ! I wish 

my head had been hit ; 
For I've hit it over and over, and it 

hasn't cracked a bit. 

But since the darling is dead, she'll 

want to be buried, of course ; 
We will take my little wagon, Nurse, 

you shall be the horse ; 
And I'll walk behind and cry ; and 

we'll put her in this — you see. 
This dear little box — and we'll bury 

them under the maple tree. 

And papa will make a tombstone, like 
the one he made for my bird ; 

And he'll put what I tell him on it — 
Yes, every single word ! 



268 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



I shall say : "Here lies Hildegarcle, a 
beautiful doll who is dead; 

She died of a broken heart, and a 
dreadful crack in her head." 



Maegaeet Vandeegift. 



BABY'S DANCING. 

Ding, dong, come along. 

Here's our baby dancing ; 
Ding, dong, come along, 

Here's our baby dancing. 
Play a pretty tune to-day 

Mamma plays while darling May, 
Mamma plays while darling May 

Merrily is dancing. 
Ding, dong, come along, 

Here's our baby dancing : 
AVhen the bass plays brown, brown, 

May goes skipping up and down 
May goes skipping up and down. 

Frocks and curls are flying. 
She plays diddle, dum, dee. 

Now go lightly, one, two, three, 
Now go lightly, one, two, three. 

Soft in grasses we're lying ; 
Ding, dong, come along. 

Here's our baby dancing. 



JENNIE AND BENNIE. 

Oh fie, little Jennie, 
And you, too, my Bennie, 
To treat your pretty book so. 
It will easily tear, 



If not handled with care. 
And it will not be fit to show. 

If you treat your dolly 

With such simple folly, 
She will not last you a day ; 

Her dress and her things 

Will be all torn to strings. 
And your mamma will throw her away. 

Your doll and your book 

Should all the time look 
Just as neat as when they were new ; 

No good girl or boy 

Will ever destroy 
Their playthings as bad children do. 



PLAYING KING. 

Ho ! I'm a king, a king ! A crown is 
on my head, 

A sword is at my side, and regal is my 
tread ; 

Ho, slave ! proclaim my will to all 
the people round ; 

The schools are hereby closed ; hence- 
forth must fmi abound. 

Vacation shall not end ; all slates I 

order smashed ; 
The man who says "arithmetic" must 

be soundly thrashed ; 
All grammars shall be burnt, the 

spellers we will tear ; 
Any boy who spells correctly, a fool's 

cap he shall wear. 




BABY'S DANCING. 

269 



270 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



No dolls shall be allowed, for dolls are 

what I hate ; 
The girls must give them up, and 

learn to swim and skate ; 
Confectioners must charge only a cent 

a pound 
For all the plums and candy that in 

the shops are found. 

That man who asks a dime for any 

pear or peach, 
I'll have him hung so high that none 

his feet can reach ; 
No baker is allowed hereafter to bake 

bread — 
He must bake only pies and cake and 

ginger snaps instead. 

All lecturers must quit our realm 

without delay ; 
The circus-men and clowns, on pain 

of death must stay ; 
All folks who frown on fun, at once 

must banished be. 
Now, fellow, that you know my will, 

to its fulfillment see ! 

Alfbed Selwyn. 



THE BIRD AND ITS MOTHER. 

(.A Kindergarten Dialogue fny Baby to Learn 
with Mamma.) 

Mam-ma. Here we are in our nice 
warm nest — I and my lit-tle 
birds. I wonder if they are 
a-wake '? I must list-en. 

Ba-by. Peep ! peep ! 



Mam-ma. Oh, yes. They are wide 
a-wake. What do you want, lit- 
tle birds ? 

Ba-by. Peep ! peep ! i^eep ! 

Mam-ma. Oh, you want your break- 
fast, do you ? Well, I must fly 
a- way and find you some -thing 
nice. 

Ba-by. Peep ! peep ! peep ! peep ! 




Mam-ma. What ! Do you wish to go, 
too? 

Ba-by, Peep ! 

Mam-ma. Ver-y well. The sky is 
blue, and it is a nice, bright day. 
Let me see if your lit-tle wings 
are strong. (^Mam-nid u-oj-ks Ba- 
hij's arms gent-ly vp and down.) 
Yes, the wings are strong. Now, 
come ! (Main-ma takes hold of 
Ba-hy's hands and lets him skip 
with her a-cross the room.) 



FIRST LESSON IN WHISTLING. 



271 



FIRST LESSON IN WHISTLING. 

Our boy is learning to whistle ; 
It's always something new : 
He begins first thing in the morning, 




And he stops last thing at bed-time, 
And he keeps it up at intervals. 
The da}^ through. 

And pray who is his teacher? 

We haven't decided quite 
Whether it is the thrushes, 



The bobolinks in the meadow, 
Or the swallows round the barn eaves. 
Or Bob White. 

What is the tune he likes best '? 

Well, 'tis between a call 
And the shriek of the wind in the 

chimney, 
Or a gale in the tops of the pine-trees, 
For, in fact (don't tell) it is no 

Tune at aU ! 

Go ask the little playmates. 
And ask the housemaid, too, 

If they like that sort of music. 

They'll sigh, "Oh, dear!" "Good 
gracious ! " 

Now ask me if I like it — 
Yes, I do. 

Mrs. Clara Dott Bates. 



ANNIE. 



I've a sweet litte pet ; she is up with 
the lark. 

And at eve she's asleep when the val- 
leys are dark, 

And she chatters and dances the 
blessed day long. 

Now laughing in gladness, now sing- 
ing a song. 

She never is silent ; the whole sum- 
mer day 

She is off on the green with the blos- 
soms at play. 



272 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



Now seeking a l)uttercup, plucking a 

rose, 
Or laughing aloud at the thistle she 

blows. 

She never is still ; now at some 

merry elf 
You'll smile as you watch her, in 

spite of yourself ; 
You may chide her in vain, for those 

eyes, full of fun. 
Are smiling in mirth at the mischief 

she's done ; 
And whatever you do, that same 

thing, without doubt, 
Must the mischievous Annie be busied 

about. 
She's as brown as a nut, but a beauty 

to me, 
And there's nothing her keen little 

eyes cannot see. 

She dances and sings, and has many 
sweet airs, 

And to infant accomplishments add- 
ing her prayers. 

I have told everything that the dar- 
ling can do. 

For 'twas only last summer her years 
numbered two. 

She's the picture of health, and a 
Southern-born thing, 

Just as ready to weep as she's ready 
to sing; 

And I fain would be foe to lip that 
hath smiled 



At this wee bit of song of the dear 
little child. 



GOLDEN HAIR. 



Golden Hair climbed upon Grand- 
papa's knee. 
Dear little Golden Hair ! tired was she. 
All the day busy as busy could be. 

Up in the morning as soon as 'twas 

light. 
Out with the birds and the butterflies 

bright, 
Skipping about till the coming of 

night. 

Grandpapa toyed with the curls on 

her head : 
" What has my baby been doing, " he 

said, 
" Since she arose, with the sun, from 

her bed?" 

" Pitty much," answered the sweet lit- 
tle one ; 

" I cannot tell so much things I have 
done — 

Played with my dolly, and feeded my 
Bun. 

"And then I have jumped with my 

little jump-rope. 
And then I made, out of some water 

and soap, 
Bootiful worlds, mamma's castles of 

hope. 



GOLDEN HAIR. 



273 




I afterward have readed in my picture- 
book, 

And Bella and I, we went down to 
look 

For smooth little stones by the side 
of the brook. 

"Then I corned home, and I eated 
my tea. 

And then I climbed up on Grand- 
papa's knee. 

And I jes' as tired as tired can be." 

Lower and lower the little head 

pressed, 
Until it drooped upon Grandpapa's 

breast ; 



Dear little Golden Hair ! sweet be thy 

rest. 

We are but children ; the things that 
we do 

Ai-e as sports of the baby to the in- 
finite view. 

That marks all our weakness, and 
pities it, too, 

God grant that when night over- 
shadows our way, 

And we shall be called to account for 
our day, 

It shall find us as guiltless as Golden- 
Hair's lay. 



274 



-BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



And, oh, when a-weary, may we be so 
blest 

As to sink, Hke the innocent child, to 
our rest, 

And feel ourselves clasped to the in- 
finite breast ! 

F. BURGE Smith. 



LEEDLE YAWCOB STRAUSS. 

I haf von funny leedle poy 

Vot gomes schust to my knee, — 

Der queerest schap, der Greatest rogue 

As efer you dit see. 

He runs, und schumps, und schmash- 

es dings 
In all barts off der house. 
But vot off dot ? He vas mine son. 
Mine leedle Yawcob Strauss. 

He get der measles und der mumbs, 

Und eferyding dot's oudt ; 

He sbills mine glass ob lager bier, 

Foots schnuff indo mine kraut ; 

He fills mine pipe mit Limburg 

cheese — 
Dot vas der roughest chouse. 
I'd dake dot vrom no oder poy 
But leedle Yawcob Strauss. 

He dakes der milk-ban for a dhrum, 

Und cuts mine cane in dwo 

To make der schticks to beat it mit — 

Mine cracious, dot vas drue ! 

I dinks mine head vas schplit abart 

He kicks oup such a touse ; 



But nefer mind, der poj's vas few 
Like dot young Yawcob Strauss. 

He asks me questions sooch as 

dese — 
Who baints mine nose so red ? 
Who vas it cuts dot schmoodth blace 

out 
Vrom der hair ubon mine hed ? 
Und vhere der plaze goes vrom der 

lamp 
Vene'er der glim I douse '? 
How gan I all dese dings eggsblain 
To dot schmall Yawcob Strauss ? 

I somedimes dink I schall go vild 

Mit sooch a grazy poy, 

Und vish vonce more I gould have 

rest 
Und beaceful dimes enshoy. 
But ven he vas ashleep in ped, 
So quiet as a mouse, 
I brays der Lord, " Dake anydings. 
But leaf dot Yawcob Strauss." 

Chables F. Adams. 



IN THE SWING. 



Up, little Gracie ! Swing up high. 
As if you were going to touch the sky ; 
Only take care, my darling pet — 
Hold the two ropes, and don't forget. 

"Up again, Gracie ! there — that's right, 
Laughing away, but holding tight ; 
While little Dottie waits below. 
And Harry sends you to and fro. 



LETTING THE OLD CAT DIE. 



275 




"Stop, Harry, now, 'tis time for 

Grace 
To yield to little Dot her place. 
Be gentle, dear, for Dot's so small — 
If you're not careful she may fall." 

The children change ; for all the three 
Are fair in play, and well agree ; 
And now the youngest laughing pet 
Begs for a "little higher yet !" 



LETTING THE OLD CAT DIE. 



Not long ago I wandered near 
A play-ground in the wood ; 

And there heard words from a young- 
ster's lips 
That I never quite understood. 



"Now let the old cat die !" he laughed ; 

I saw him give a push, 
Then gayly scamper away as he spied 

A face peep over the bush. 

But what he pushed, or where he went, 

I could not well make out. 
On account of the thicket of bending 
boughs 

That bordered the place about. 

"The little villain has stoned a cat, 

Or hung it upon a limb 
And left it to die all alone," I said ; 

"But ni play the mischief with 
him:' 

I forced my way between the boughs, 
The poor old cat to seek ; 



276 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



And what did I find but a swinging 


But the hveUest thing of all, I 


chihl, 


thought. 


With her bright hair brushing her 


Was the gleam of her laughing 


cheek ! 


eye. 




Her bright hair floated to and fro, 
Her little red dress flashed by, 



Swinging and swaying back and forth 
With the rose-light in her face, 



grandpa's pet. 



277 



She seemed like a bird and a flower in 
one, 
And the wood her native place. 

"Steady ! I'll send you up my child !" 
But she stopped me with a cry : 

"Go 'way ! go 'way ! Don't touch me, 
please ; 
I'm lettiner the old cat die !" 



GRANDPA'S PET. 



A bundle of sweetness rolled up in 
blue — 
A round curly head that was gold- 
en, 

Two wee, chubby hands that came 
peeping through 




"You letting him die!" I cried, 
aghast ; 
"Why, where is the cat, my 
dear ?" 
And lo ! the laughter that filled 
the woods 
Was a thing for the birds to 
, hear. 

"Why, don't you know," said '^ 
the little maid. 
The flitting, beautiful elf, 
"That we call it 'letting the old \ 
cat die' '^" 

When the swing stops all 
itself?" 

Then floating and swinging, and look- | And ne'er to one thing could be 
ing back 
With merriment in her eye. 
She bade me "good-day," and I left 
her alone, 
A-letting the old cat die. 

Mary Mapes Dodge. 



holden. 
Such a lumj) of fun as eyes never met. 
And the whole went by the name of 
grandpa's pet. 

He's up in the morning when daylight 
breaks, 



278 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



And every one knows all about it ; 
The day begins j ust when Roger awakes, 

And none are so hardy as doubt it. 
An autocrat he, whose wish must be 

met. 
All must bow to the reign of grandpa's 
pet. 

Does he want a crown ? He'll have 

grandpa's hat — 
The coal-scuttle serves him to fish 

in. 
When he chooses to ride he'll ride the 
cat, 
And pussy must bend in submis- 
sion. 
He cannot do wrong — he never did 

yet- 
Why the whole world was made just 
for grandpa's pet. 

When he makes a crow's nest of grand- 
pa's wig. 

Then the old man is ready to kiss 
him. 

He draws his snuJBf-box about for a gig, 

And the worst word that's said is 
God bless him. 

All clocks in the house to his time are 
set — 

Well, there's nobody there but grand- 
pa's pet. 

What pity we cannot be always young 

And rule like a king in his glory ; 
What pity that Time, with his iron 
tongue, 



Must change the sweet tune of 

life's story. 
Alas ! that we lose in flurry and fret 
The dream of the time we were 

grandpa's pet ! 

William Lyle 



THE SLEEPY LITTLE SISTER. 

I sat, one evening, watching 

A little golden head 
That was nodding o'er a picture-book, 

And pretty soon I said, 
"Come, darling, you are sleepy. 

Don't you want to go to bed ?" 
"No," she said, "I isn't sleepy. 

But I can't hold up my head. 

"Just now it feels so heavy 

There isn't any use ; 
Do let me lay it down to rest 

On dear old Mother Goose. 
I shan't shut up my eyes at all. 

And so you need not fear ; 
I'll keep them open all the while. 

To see this picture here." 

And then, as I said nothing, 

She settled for a nap ; 
One curl was resting on the frill 

Of the old lady's cap ; 
Her arms embraced the children small 

Inhabiting the shoe ; 
"Oh deary" thought I, "what shall I 
say? 

For this will never do." 



THE FORTUNE. 



279 



I sat a while in silence, 

Till the clock struck its "ding, 
ding," 
And then I went around and kissed 

The cunning little thing. 
The violets unfolded 

As I kissed her, and she said, 
"I isn't sleepy, sister. 

But I guess I'll go to bed." 

Georgiana McNiELIi, 




Whom Tot is to marry ; 
Or, will it he me ? 

I'll toss it three times 
Just over my head. 

Then I'll send it flying. 
And see if it's Ned. 

"N" stands for the "Ned," 
And that's me, you know ; 

But what a strange letter. 
It must be an 0. 

stands for Olive, 

Our own mother dear ; 

That's whom we'll marry 
On every New Year. 



Let's tell our fortune, 
And then we will see 



A LITTLE GOOSE. 

The chill November day was done. 

The working- world home faring ; 
The wind came roaring through the 
streets, 

And set the gas-lights flaring, 
And hopelessly and aimlessly 

The scared old leaves were fi3'ing. 
When, mingled with the soughing 
wind, 

I heard a small voice crying ; 

And shivering on the corner stood 

A child of four, or over ; 
No cloak or hat her small, soft arms 

And wind-blown curls to cover ; 
Her dimpled face was stained with 
tears, 



28o 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



Her round blue eyes ran over ; 
She cherished in her wee, cold hand 
A bunch of faded clover. 

And, one hand round her treasure, 
while 

She slipped in mine the other. 
Half scared, half confidential, said, 

"Oh, please, I want my mother !" 
"Tell me your street and number, pet. 

Don't cry ! I'll take you t6 it." 
Sobbing, she answered, "I fdrget ! 

The organ made me doit. 

"He came and played at Miller's step. 

The monkey took the money ; 
I followed down the street because 

That monkey was so funny, 
I've walked about a hundred hours, 

From one street to another ; 
The monkey's gone ; I've spoiled my 
flowers ; 

Oh, please, I want my mother !" 

"But what's your mother's name, and 
what 

The street? Now think a minute," 
"My mother's name is Mother Dear, 

The street — I can't begin it." 
"But what is strange about the house. 

Or new — not like the others ?" 
"I guess you mean my trundle-bed — 

Mine and my little brother's. 

"Oh dear ! I ought to be at home 
To help him say his prayers — 
He's such a baby, he forgets, 



And we are both such players ! 
And there's a bar between to keep 

From pitching on each other. 
For Harry rolls when he's asleej) ; 

Oh dear ! I want my mother ! " 

The sky grew stormy ; people passed, 

All muffled, homeward faring. 
"You'll have to spend the night with 
me," 

I said, at last, despairing. 
I tied a kerchief round her neck : 

"What ribbon's this, my blossom ?" 
"Why, don't you know?" she smiling 
said, 

And drew it from her bosom. 

A card with number, street, and name. 

My eyes astonished met it. 
"For," said the little one, "you see 

I might some time forget it. 
And so I wear a little thing 

What tells you all about it ; 
For mother says she's very sure 

I should get lost without it." 

Eliza Spboat Turner. 



THE CHILDREN'S HOUR. 



Between the dark and the daylight. 
When the night is beginning to 
lower. 
Comes a pause in the day's occupa- 
tions. 
That is known as the Children's 
Hour. 



THE CJIILDREN'S hour. 



281 



I bear in the chamber above me 
The patter of Uttle feet, 

The sound of a door that is oj)ened, 
And voices soft and sweet. 

From my study I see in the lamplight, 
Descending the broad hall stair, 

Grave Alice and laughing Allegra, 
And Edith with golden hair. 



They climb up into my turret 

O'er the arms and back of my chair ; 

If I try to escape, they surround me ; 
They seem to be everywhere. 

They almost devour me with kisses, 
Their arms about me entwine, 

Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen, 
In his Mouse-Tower on the Ehine ! 




A whisper, and then a silence ; 

Yet I know by their merry eyes 
They are plotting and planning together 

To take me by surprise. 

A sudden rush from the stairway, 
A sudden raid from the hall ! 

By three doors left unguarded 
They enter my castle wall ! 



Do you think, blue-eyed banditti, 
Because you have scaled the wall, 

Such an old moustache as I am 
Is not a match for you all ? 

I have you fast in my fortress. 
And will not let you depart. 

But put you down into the dungeon 
In the round-tower of my heart. 



2«2 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



And there will I keep you forever, 
Yes, forever and a day, 

Till the walls shall crumble to ruin, 
And moulder in dust away. 

HENKY W. LONGFKIiLOW. 



HIDE AND SEEK. 



Hide, hide, hide ! under the great oak 

tree — 
Little Mary, Isabel, Tom and Willie 

and me, 
And baby, grave as a judge, and still 

as a bumble-bee. 



And Tray will wag his wicked old tail 
and leap up high in the air — 

If you don't lie down, like a good dumb 
dog, I will shoot you, I declare ! 

Hide, hide, hide ! creep lower, close to 

the ground — 
Tom, pull Tray into the hollow tree, 
and — there they come with a bound, 
"All six at once ! ho ! ho ! ha ! ha ! so 

the game's up — we're found ! 



GAME AT MARBLES. 




Peep, peep, peep ! but let not a sound 
be heard. 

Except the buzz of flies in the leaves, 
or the flutter of startled birds — 

They'd find us out in a minute if any- 
body stirred. 

Hush, hush, hush ! they are seeking 
us every-where : 



"Just have a game at marbles, there's 
plenty of time to spare ; 
^ Here's a capital bit of ground, 
by the railings of the 
square. 
There's no policeman near, 
and very few people about, 
And no one will interfere;" 
and Bob turned his mar- 
bles out. 
Then the idle school-boys 
began to play, and all 
about school forgot ; 
And the butcher's lad and the baker's 
boy came sauntering up to the 
spot. 
And the butcher's boy forgot his meat, 

and the baker's boy his bread ; 
And there they stayed to watch the 

game : 
" There's plenty of time, " they said. 



UP AND DOWN. 



283 



But time fled fast, although they took 

of it no heed ; 
And when they heard eleven strike, 

they were surprised indeed. 



UP AND DOWN. 

See-saw ! 

Don't be afraid ; 
Up and down 

In the nice cool shade. 

See-saw ! 

On the old tree ; 
See, the apple 

Will fall to me. 



See-saw ! 

High, then low ; 
There, little brother. 

Up you go ! 



LITTLE GAMES. 

"Ring — a — round — a — rosy !" 
Cheeks just like a posy ; 
Eyes that twinkle with delight. 
Could there be a fairer sight ? 
Little feet that dance in glee ; 
Voices singing merrily. 
Won't you stop a little while ? 
At my questions you will smile ; 




UP AND DOWN. 



284 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



" Kosy 1 have never seen, — 
Tell me, is she some fair queen ? 
Have your lily hands now crowned 

her, 
"While you form a ring around her? 

"Why draw ' buckets of water 
For my lady's daughter' '? 
Has she spoiled her pretty dress ? 
Ah ! to wash her face, I guess ! 
Very hard 'tis to unravel 
What is meant, dears, by 

'green gravel.' 
Then you say, 'How barley 

grows 
You, nor I, nor nobody 

knows;' 
Oats, j)eas, beans, too, you 

include ; 
If the question be not rude 
Darlings, tell me why this is done." 
Ha ! Ha ! laugh they "It's such fun !" 

Geobge Cooper. 



Till nurse comes in with the tea at 
five." 

"Dolls and visiting ?"" Oh, dear, no. 
That would, indeed, be dreadfully 

slow." 
"Football?" " P'raps that's a little 

rough ; 
But what do you say to Blind-man's 

Buff?" 




BLIND-MAN'S BUFF. ] 

"I can't sit still any more to-day, 
And I'm much too tired for quiet play ; 
How can I possibly keep alive 
Till nurse comes in with the tea at 
five ?" 

" I want you all for a game of play, 
This terrible rainy winter's day ; 
Something that's sure to keep you 
alive 



Every one shouted directly " Yes !" 
And"Blind me first, "begged sister Bess. 
Such a splendid game of play as they 

had, 
Poor nurse thought her flock must 

have all gone mad. 



BE ACTIVE.. 



Be active, be active, find something to do 
In digging a clam-bank or tapping a 

shoe, 
Dont stop at the corner to drag out the 

day, 
Be active, be active and work while 

you may. 



A MERRY BAND. 



285 




A MERRY BAND. 

" Oh, we're a merry band, sir, as ever 

3-011 shall see ; 
Our tunes are all quite foreign, and 

sweet as sweet can he ! 
Oh, we're a happy hand, sir, as euer 

you shall see, 
And please, if you've a penny, you 

may give it, sir, to me ! " 



DON'T WAKE THE BABY. 



Baby sleeps, so we must tread 
Softly round her little bed, 
And be careful that our toys 
Do not fall and make a noise. 

Play and talk, but whisper low : 
Mother wants to work, we know. 
That when father comes to tea 
All may neat and cheerful be. 



SNAP THE WHIP. 



Off we go 

In a row, 
Gallant Tom's our leader ; 

Now hold fast ; 

Lily's last. 
Strength and courage s^jeed her! 

Lightly skip. 

Do not trip ; 
Snip, snap, goes the whip ! 

Lily's do^vn ! 

Do not fro'wn, 
Let us all be jolly ! 

Lend a hand, 

She can stand ; 
Next in turn comes Molly. 

Lightly skip, 

Do not trip : 
Snip, snap, goes the whip ! 

Jo and Ben, 
Little men, 



286 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



They can foot it faster ; 

Off they dash, 

Like a flash, 
Fearing no disaster ; 

Lightly skip, 

Do not trip, 
Snip, snap, goes the whip ! 



That Uncle John had given : 
How can he read the papers there, 

Or find his liickory staff ? 
He'll put his coat on wrong side out. 

And make the people laugh. 

And when he takes the Bible down. 
And wipes the dusty lid, 




Try again ! 

Now and then 
Some one gets a tumble ; 

Never mind^ 

We shall find 
It's to make us humble ; 

Lightly skip. 

Do not trip ; 
Snip, snap, goes the whip ! 

Emily Shaw Fobman. 



GRANDPAPA'S SPECTACLES. 



Oh, mamma, what will grandpa do ? 

He's gone away to heaven. 
Without the silver spectacles 



He'll never find his spectacles 

Within its cover hid ; 
There won't be any little girl 

He likes as well as me, 
To run and hunt them up for him 

And put them on his knee. 

Oh dear ! he'll never find the place 

About "the wicked flee," 
And how the bears ate children up, 

(That used to frighten me ;) 
So, mamma, if you'll dress me up, 

Just like an angel bright, 
I'll fix our ladder 'gainst the sky, 

And take them up to-night. 

Mbs. M. L. Bayme. 



THE MORNING RIDE. 



287 




TRUE LOVE. 



THE MORNING RIDE. 

Before nurse was awake, Claude slip- 
ped out of bed, 

And then, with a paper cocked hat on 
his head. 

He got on the stool which stood by its 
side, 

And mounted his horse to take a nice 
ride : 

And thought he was galloping up and 
down hill. 

Although all the time he was standing 
quite still. 



SEE SAW. 



"How much I love you, mother dear ! " 

A little prattler said : 
"I love you in the morning bright. 

And when I go to bed." 

"I love you when I'm near to you. 

And when I'm far away : 
I love you when I am at work, 

And when I am at play." 




See Saw, up and down, 
I can see all over town. 



And then she slyly, sweetly raised 

Her lovely eyes of blue : 
" I love you when you love me best. 

And when you scold me, too." 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



The mother kissed her darling child, 
And stooped a tear to hide : 

" My precious one, I love you most 
When I am forced to chide." 

" I could not let my darhng child 

In sin and folly go, 
And this is why I sometimes chide. 

Because I love you so." 



A LITTLE ROGUE. 

Grandma was nodding, I rather think : 
Harry was sly and quick as wink : 
He climbed on the hack of her great 

armchair. 
And nestled himself very snugly there. 
Grar^dma's dark locks were mingled 

ivith white. 
And luick this little fact came to his 

sight : 



" Why, what are you doing, my child ?" 

she said. 
He answered : " I's pulhng a basting 

thread ! " 




COULDN'T YOU, MAMMA? 




A sharp twinge soon she felt at her 

hair, 
And awoke to find Harry there. 



" Dear mamma, if you just could be 
A tiny little girl like me, 

And I your mamma, you would 
see 

How nice I'd be to you. 



I'd always let you have your 

way; 
I'd never frown at you, and say : 
'You are behaving ill to-day; 
Such conduct will not do.' 



"I'd always give you jelly-cake 
For breakfast, and I'd never 
shake 
My head, and say : *My dear, I trust 
You will not make me say you must 



grandpapa's spectacles. 



289 



Eat up your oat-meal' ; or 'The crust 
You'll find is very nice.' 

" I'd buy you candy every day ; 

I'd go doAvn-town with you, and say : 

' \Yhat vv^ould my darling like ? You 

may 
Have anything you see.' 
I'd never say : 'My pet, you know 
'Tis bad for health and teeth, and so 
I cannot let you have it. No ; 
It would be wrong in me.' 

" And every day I'd let you wear 
Your nicest dress, and never care 
If it should get a great big tear ; 
I'd only say to you : 
*My precious treasure, never mind, 
For little clothes tvill tear, I find.' 
Now, mamma, wouldn't that be kind ? 
That's just what I should do. 

"I'd never say: 'Well just a few!' 
I'd let you stop your lessons, too ; 
I'd say : 'they are too hard for you, 
Poor child, to understand. * 
I'd put the books and slates away ; 
You shouldn't do a thing but play. 
And have a party every day. 
Oh-h-h, wouldn't that be grand ! 

"But, mamma dear, you cannot grow 

Into a little girl, you know, 

And I can't be your mamma ; so 

The only thing to do, 

Is just for you to try and see 



How very, verjf nice 'twould be 
For you to do all this for me. 
Now, mamma, couldn't you? " 



GRANDPAPA'S SPECTACLES. 

Grandpapa's spectacles cannot be 

found ; 
He has searched all the rooms, high 

and low, round and round ; 
Now he calls to the young ones, and 

what does he say ? 
"Ten cents to the child who will find 

them to-day." 

Then Henry, and Nelly, and Edward 

all ran. 
And a most thorough hunt for the 

glasses began. 
And dear little Nell, in her generous 

way. 
Said, "I'll look for them, grandpa, 

without any pay. " 

All through the big Bible she searches 

with care. 
That lies on the table by grandpapa's 

chair ; 
They feel in his pockets, they peep 

in his hat. 
They pull out the sofa, they shake out 

the mat. 

Then do\\Ti on all-fours, like two good- 
natured bears. 

Go Harry and Ned under tables and 
chairs, 



290 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



Till, quite out of breath, Ned is heard 

to declare 
He believes that those glasses are not 

anywhere. 

But Nelly, who, leaning on grandpapa's 

knee, 
Was thinking most earnestly where 

they could be. 
Looked suddenly up in the kind, faded 

eyes. 
And her own shining bro"svn ones grew 

big with surprise. 

She clapped both her hands — all her 
dimples came out, — 

She turned to the boys with a bright, 
roguish shout : 

"You may leave ofif your looking, both 
Harry and Ned, 

For there are the glasses on grand- 
papa's head ! " 

Elizabeth Sill. 



THE PROPOSAL 



"Oh, will you be my little wife ? 

My little wife ?" he said. 
She only pulled the rose to bits, 

And gravely shook her head. 

"I'll give you my tojis and balls. 
My beautiful new kite." 

But still she pulled the rose to bits, 
So the butterflies took flight. 

"I'll buy a great big waxen doll. 
With real eyes and hair." 

But still she pulled the rose to bits, 
And said she did not care. 



"Oh, look how even doggie begs 

He cannot talk, and so 
He sits upon his hinder legs, 

And thinks he's quite a beau ! " 

Then Lawrence said " Good-bye," and 
went 

And left her sitting there. 
The moon was watching all the time, 

Then she began to care. 




PUSS IN THE CLOCK. 

It's dickory, dickory, dock ! 

Some one has stopped the clock ! 

Why here's pussy inside, 

As though trying to hide ! 

Dickory, dickory, dock ! 

It is puss who has stopped the clock ! 



gran'ma al'us does. 



291 




GRAN'MA AL'US DOES. 

I wants to mend my wagon, 
And has to have some nails ; 



Jus' two, free will be plenty. 
We're going to haul our rails. 

The splendidest cob fences. 
We're makin' ever was ; 



292 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



I wis' you'd help us find 'em. 
Gran'ma al'us does. 

My horse's name is Betsy ; 

She jumped and hroked her head, 
I put her in the stable, 

And fed her milk and bread. 
The stable's in the parlor ; 

We didn't make no muss — 
I wis' you'd let us stay there, 

Gran'ma al'us does. 

I's goin' to the corn-field, 

To ride on Charlie's plow ; 
I 'spect he'd like to have me ; 

I wants to go right now. 
Oh, won't I gee up awful. 

And whoa like Charlie w^hoas ? 
I wis' you wouldn't bozzer ; 

Gran'ma never does. 

I wants some bread and butter : 

I's hungry, worstest kind : 
But Taddie mustn't have none, 

'Cause he wouldn't mind. 
Put plenty sugar on it : 

I tell you what, I knows 
It's right to put on sugar : 

Gran'ma al'us does. 



MAKING MUD-PIES. 



Under the apple tree, spreading and 

thick, 
Happy with only a pan and a stick. 



On the soft grass in the shadow that 

lies. 
Our little Fanny is making mud-pies. 

On her brown apron and bright droop- 
ing head 

Showers of pink and white blossoms 
are shed; 

Tied to a branch that seems meant 
just for that. 

Dances and flutters her little straw 
hat. 

Dash, full of joy in the bright sum- 
mer day. 

Zealously chases the robins away. 

Barks at the squirrels or snaps at the 
flies, 

All the while Fanny is making mud- 
pies. 

Sunshine and soft summer breezes 
astir 

While she is busy are busy with her ; 

Cheeks rosy glowing and bright spark- 
ling eyes 

Bring they to Fanny while making 
mud-pies. 

Dollies and playthings are all laid 
away, 

Not to come out till the next rainy 
day; 

Under the blue of these sweet sum- 
mer skies 

Nothing's so pleasant as making mud- 
pies. 



WHAT. 



293 



Gravely she stirs, with a serious look 

"Making believe" she's a true pastry 
cook; 

Sundry brown splashes on forehead 
and eyes 

Show that our Fanny is making mud- 
pies. 



WHAT. 



AVhat was it that Charlie saw, to- 
day, 

Down in the pool where the cattle he ? 
A shoal of the spotted trout at play ? 

Or a sheeny dragon-fly ? 




But all the soil of her innocent play 
Soap and clean water will soon wash 

away ; 
Many a pleasure in daintier guise 
Leaves darker traces than Fanny's 

mud-pies. 



The fly and the hsh were there indeed ; 
But as for the puzzle, — guess 
again ! 
It was neither a shell, nor flower, nor 
reed, 
Nor the nest of a last year's "WTen. 



294 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



Some willows droop to the brooklet's 
bed ; — 
Who knows but a bee had fallen 
down ? 
Or a spider, swung from his broken 
thread, 
Was learning the way to drown ? 

You have not read me the riddle yet, 
Not even the wing of a wounded bee, 

Nor the web of a spider, torn and wet, 
Did Charlie this morning see. 

Now answer, you who have grown so 
wise, — 
What could the wonderful sight have 
been, 
But the dimpled face and great blue eyes 
Of the rogue who was looking in ? 

Kate Putnam Osgood. 



XITTLE CHILDREN, LOVE ONE 
ANOTHER." 



A little girl, with a happy look, 

Sat slowly reading a ponderous book 

All bound with velvet and edged with 

gold, 
And its weight was more than the 

child could hold ; 
Yet dearly she loved to ponder it o'er. 
And every day she prized it more ; 
For it said — and she looked at her 

smiling mother — 
It said, " Little children, love one 

another." 



She thought it was beautiful in the 
book. 

And the lesson home to her heart she 
took ; 

She walked on her way with a trust- 
ing grace. 

And a dove-like look in her meek 
young face. 

Which said, just as plain as words 
could say, 

"The Holy Bible I must obey ; X 

So, mamma, I'll be kind to my dar- 
ling brother, 

For " Little children must love each 
other." 

"I'm sorry he's naughty, and will 
play ; 

But I'll love him still, for I think the 
way 

To make him gentle and kind to me 

Will be better shown if I let him see 

I strive to do what I think is right ; 

And thus, when I kneel in prayer to- 
night, 

I will clasp my hands around my 
brother. 

And say, 'Little children love one 
another.'" 

The little girl did as her Bible taught, 

And pleasant indeed was the change 
it wrought ; 

For the boy looked up in glad sur- 
prise. 

To meet the light of her loving eyes : 



THE RABBIT ON THE WALL. 



295 



His heart was full, he could not 
speak, 

But he pressed a kiss on his sister's 
cheek ; 

And God looked down on that happy- 
mother 

Whose little childi-en loved each other. 



THE RABBIT ON THE WALL. 

The cottage work is over. 

The evening meal is done ; 
Hark ! through the starlit stillness 

You hear the river run ; 
The cotter's children whisper. 

Then speak out one and all : 
" Come, father, make for Johnny 

A rabbit on the wall." 

He smilingly assenting. 

They gather round his chair : 
"Now, grandma, you hold Johnny, 

Don't let the candle flare. " 
So speaking, from his fingers 

He throws a shadow tall, 
That seems the moment after 

A rabbit on the wall. 

The children shout with laughter. 

The uproar louder grows, 
E'en grandma chuckles faintly, 

And Johnny chirps and crows. 
There ne'er was gilded painting 

Hung up in lordly hall. 
Gave half the simple pleasure. 

As this rabbit on the wall. 



Ah i who does not remember 

When humble sports like these, 
Than many a costlier pastime, 

Had greater power to please ? 
When o'er life's autumn pathway, 

The sere leaves thickly fall, 
How oft we sigh, recalling 

The rabbit on the wall. 



NOTHING TO DO. 

I have sailed my boat, and spun my 
top, 
And handled my last new ball ; 
I trundled my hoop till I had to stop, 

And I swung till I got a fall ; 
I tumbled my books all out of the 
shelves. 
And hunted the pictures tlirough ; 
I've flung them where they may sort 
themselves, 
And now — I have nothing to do. 

The Tower of Babel I built of blocks 

Came down with a crash to the floor ; 
My train of cars ran over the rocks — 

I'll warrant they'll run no more ; 
I have raced with Grip till I'm out of 
breath ; 

My slate is broken in two, 
So I can't draw monkeys. I'm tired 
to death 

Because I have nothing to do. 

I can see where the boys have gone 
to fish; 



296 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



They bothered me, too, to go. 
But for fun hke that I hadn't a wish, 

For I think it's mighty "slow" 
To sit all day at the end of a rod 

For the sake of a minnow or two, I wish I was poor Jim Foster's son. 



"I was thinking you'd relish a canter," 
said he, 
"Because you have nothing to do." 



Or to land, at the farthest, an eel on 
the sod: 
I'd rather have nothing to do. 



For he seems so happy and gay, 
When his wood is chopped and his 
work all done, 




I I rtl i ii-i-iM . Mi « 1 ^ ^ - — i - — ■ — <■ '■■ ^ 



Maria has gone to the woods for 
flowers, 
And Lucy and Rose are away 
After berries. I'm sure they've been 
out for hours ; 
I wonder what makes them stay ? 
Ned wanted to saddle Brunette for me, j But then he is never tired at all 
But riding is nothing new ; I Because he has nothing to do. 



With his little half hour 

play ; 
He neither has books nor top 

ball, 
Yet he's singing the whole 

through ; 



of 
nor 
day 



A PICTURE. 



297 



A PICTURE. 

The farmer sat in his easy-chair 

Smoking his pipe of clay, 
AYhile his hale old wife, with busy 
care, 
Was clearing the dinner away ; 
A sweet little girl wuth fine blue eyes, 
On her grandfather's knee was 
catching flies. 

The old man laid his hand on her 

head. 
With a tear on his wrinkled face ; 
He thought how often her mother 

dead 
Had sat in the selfsame place. 
As the tear stole down from his liaLf- 

shut eye, 
"Don't smoke !" said the child, "how 

it makes you cry !" 

The house-dog lay stretched out on 
the floor, 
Where the shade after noon used to 
steal ; 
The busy old wife, by the open door. 

Was turning the spinning-wheel ; 
And the old brass clock on the man- 
tle-tree 
Had plodded along to almost three. 

Still the farmer sat in his easy-chair, 

While close to his heaving breast 
The moistened brow and the cheek so 
fair 



Of his sweet grandchild were 
pressed ; 

His head, bent down, on her soft hair 
lay: 

Fast asleep were they both that sum- 
mer day ! 

Chaeles G. Eastman. 



SEVEN TIMES ONE. 



There's no dew left on the daisies and 
clover, 
There's no rain left in heaven : 




I've said my "seven times" over and 
over. 
Seven times one are seven. 

I am old, so old I can write a letter ; 
My birthday lessons are done ; 



298 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



The lambs play always, they know no 
better ; 
They are only one times one. 

0, moon, in the night I have seen you 
sailing 
And shining so round and low ; 
You were bright — ah bright ! but your 
light is failing; 
You are nothing now but a bow. 

You moon, have you done something 
wrong in heaven, 
That God has hidden your face ? 
I hope, if you have, you will soon be 
forgiven. 
And shine again in your place. 

0, velvet bee, you're a dusty fellow, 
You've powdered your legs with gold ! 

0, brave marsh-mary buds, rich and 
yellow, 
Give me your money to hold ! 

0,columbine, open your folded wrapper, 
Where two twin turtle-doves dwell ! 

0, cuckoo-pint, toll me the purple clap- 
per 
That hangs in your clear green bell ! 

And show me the nests with the young 
ones in it ; 
I will not steal them away : 
I am old ! You may trust me, linnet, 
linnet, 
I am seven times one to-day. 

Jean Inoelow. 



THE NEW MOON. 

Dear mother, how pretty 
The moon looks to-night ! 

She was never so cunning before ; 
Her two little horns 
Are so sharp and so bright, 

I hope she'll not grow any more. 

If I were up there 

With you and my friends, 

I'd rock in it nicely, you'd see ; 
I'd sit in the middle, 
And hold by both ends ; 

Oh, what a bright cradle 'twould be ! 




I would call on the stars 

To keep out of the way, 
Lest we should rock over their toes ; 

And then I would rock 

Till the dawn of the day, 
And see where the pretty moon goes. 

And there we would stay 

In the beautiful skies. 
And through the bright clouds we 
would roam ; 

We would see the sun set, 

And see the sun rise, 
And on the next rainbow come home. 

Mks. Follen. 



THE SHADOWS. 



299 



THE SHADOWS. 



My little boy with pale, round 

cheeks. 
And large, brown, dreamy 

eyes, 
Not often, little wise head, 

speaks, 
But yet will make replies. 

His sister, always glad to show 
Her knowledge, for its 
praise, 
Said yesterday: "God's here, 
you know ; 
He's everywhere, always." 

"He's in this room." His large 
brown eyes 
Went wandering round for 
God; 
In vain he looks, in vain he 
tries, 
His wits are all abroad, 

"He is not here, mamma ? No, no ; 

I do not see Him at all, 
He's not the shadows, is he ? So 

His doubtful accents fall. 

Fall on my heart, like precious seed, 
Grow up to flowers of love ; 

For as my child, in love and need. 
Am I to Him above. 

How oft before the vapors break. 

And day begins to be. 
In our dim-lighted rooms we take 

The shadows, Lord, for Thee ; — 




i^g^. 



^/-fy:^^^ 



While every shadow lying there, 
Slow remnant of the night, 

Is but an aching, longing prayer, 
For Thee, Lord, the Light, 

Geokge Macdonald. 



AMUSEMENT. 



" 'Tis well to be amused ; 

But when amusement does instruc- 
tion bring, 

* Tis better.— " 

Wm. Shaeespeabe. 



300 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



A SLICE OF THE MOON. 



' Where are you going, my little man ? " 
" Going to the moon, sir, if I can. " 
"When you get there, what will you 

do?" 
" With my big knife I'll cut him in 

two." 



A slice of the cheese so rich and so 

green, 
The best and the biggest that ever 

was seen." 




LITTLE RAIN-DROPS. 

Where do you come from, 
You little drops of rain, 
Fitter patter, pitter patter, 
Down the window-pane ? 

They won't let me w'alk. 
And they won't let me play 



{—- And they won't let me go 
IZ. Out-of-doors at all to-d 



-:,:^v.4v.. 



"How will you get there, my little 
man?" 

"By bean-stalk train, sir, if I can, 

I'll take to the rail, and keep to the 
track 

Securely laid down by the world- 
renowned Jack." 

"I wish you success, then, my little 

man ; 
Pray bring me a moonbeam, if you 

can. 



lay, 



They put away my plaything 
Because I broke them all. 

And then they locked up all 
my lu'icks. 
And took away my ball. 

Tell me, little rain-drops. 

Is that the way you play — 
Pitter patter, pitter patter 
All the rainy day? 



They say I'm very naughty, 
But I've nothing else to do 

But sit here at the window : 
I should like to play with you. 

The little rain-drops cannot speak ; 

But "pitter patter pat" 
Means, " We can play on this side, 

Why can't you play on that?" 

Aunt Effie's Rhymes. 



PLAYING BO-PEEP 


WITH THE STAR. 3OI 


PLAYING BO-PEEP WITH THE 
STAR. 

"Who are you winking at, bright 


" Or else you would answer my ques- 
tion to-night. 

We whisper and talk to each other 
down here ; 


little star? 
Hanging alone, 'way up ever so far ; 
Trembling and flashing aloft in the 


I think you could speak, if you chose 
to, my dear." 


blue — 


What do you think the little star did ? 


Answer my question, and answer 
me true." 


It willfully slipped out of sight, and 
was hid 




She stood by the window, all ready for 

bed, 
Yet lingered to hear what the little 

star said ; 
But naught would it do but wink its 

bright eye, 
Alone by itself in the depths of the 

sky. 

**I fear you are dumb," said the wee 
little sprite, 



By a snip of a cloud that floated 

close by, 
And never vouchsafed her a wink or 

reply. 

But after a while, when she woke in 
the night, 

The first thing she saw was that lit- 
tle star's light ; 

It twinkled and twinkled, and roused 
her from sleep. 



302 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



"Aha !" laughed the child, "we can 
both play bo-peep ! " 



GOING INTO BREECHES. 

Joy to Philip ! he this day 
Has his long coats cast away, 
And (the childish season gone) 
Puts the manly breeches on. 




Officer on gay parade, 
Eed-coat in his first cockade. 
Bridegroom in his wedding trim, 
Birthday beau surpassing him, 
Never did with conscious gait 
Strut about in half the state, 
Or the pride (yet free from sin). 
Of my little manikin : 
Never was there pride, or bliss. 
Half so rational as his. 



Sashes, frocks, to those that need 

'em — 

Philip's limbs have got their freedom. 

He can run, or he can ride, 

And do twenty things beside, 

"Which his petticoats forbade : 

Is he not a happy lad ? 

Now he's under other banners, 

He must leave his former manners, 

Bid adieu to female games. 

And forget their very names — 

Puss-in-corners, hide-and-seek, 

Si)orts for girls and punies weak ! 

Baste-the-bear he now may play at ; 

Leap-frog, foot-ball sport away at ; 

Show his strength and skill at cricket, 

Mark his distance, pitch his wicket : 

Eun about in winter's snow 

Till his cheeks and fingers glow ; 

Climb a tree, or scale a w'all. 

Without any fear to fall. 

If he get a hurt or bruise. 

To complain he must refuse. 

Though the anguish and the smart 

Go unto his little heart. 

He must have his courage ready. 

Keep his voice and visage steady. 

Brace his eyeballs stiff as drum. 

That a tear may never come ; 

And his grief must only speak 

From the color in his cheek. 

This and more he must endure — 

Hero he in miniature ! 

This and more must now be done. 

Now the breeches are put on. 

Mart Lamb. 



twinkle! twinkle! little star. 



303 



TWINKLE! TWINKLE! LITTLE 
STAR! 

Twinkle ! twinkle ! little star ! 
How I wonder what you are : 
Up above the world so high, 
Like a diamond in the sky. 




Then you show your little light ; 
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. 

The poor traveler in the dark 
Thanks God for your tiny spark , 
Could he tell which way to go 
If you did not twinkle so ? 

In the dark blue sky you keep, 
Sweetly through my curtain peep ; 
And you never shut your eye 
Till the sun is in the sky. 
Up above the world so high. 
Like a diamond in the sky, 
Though I know not what you are. 
Twinkle ! twinkle ! little star ! 

Jane Taylor. 



THE FIRST POCKET. 



AVhen the blazing sun is gone. 
When he nothing shines upon ; 



What is this tremendous noise ? 

What can be the matter? 

Willie's coming up the stairs 

With unusual clatter. 

Now he bursts into the room, 

Noisy as a rocket : 

" Auntie ! I atu five years old — 

And I've got a pocket !" 

Eyes as round and bright as stars ; 
Cheeks like apples glowing ; 
Heart that this new treasure fills 
Quite to overflowing. 
"Jack may have his squeaking boots; 
Kate may have her locket : 
I've got something better yet, — 
I have got a pocket !" 



304 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



All too fresh the joy to make 
Emptiness a sorrow : 
Little hand is plump enough 
To fill it — till to-morrow. 
And e'er many days were o'er, 
Strangest things did stock it : 
Nothing ever came amiss 
To this wondrous pocket. 

Leather, marbles, bits of string, 
Licorice-sticks and candy. 
Stones, a ball, his pennies too : 
It was always handy. 
And, when Willie's snug in bed. 
Should you chance to knock it. 
Sundry treasures rattle out 
From this crowded pocket. 

Sometimes Johnny's borrowed knife 

Found a place within it : 

He forgot that he had said, 

"I want it just a minute." 

Once the closet-key was lost ; 

No one could unlock it : 

Where do you suppose it was ? — 

Down in AVillie's pocket. 

Elizabeth Sill. 



THE FIRST PAIR OF BREECHES. 

Iv'e got a pair of breeches now, 
And I'll have to be a man, 

I know I can if just I try, 
My mamma says I can ! 

I'm going to school now very soon. 
And learn my A, B, C ; 



My mamma says I'm too young yet, 
But I am way past three. 

And I've got pockets in my pants, 

To put my pencil in ; 
For mamma says that I must write 

In school when I begin. 

I'll soon be tall as papa — now 

I'll grow fast as I can. 
And don't you think that very soon 

I'll be a full-grown man? 



THE FIRST RUBBER BOOTS. 

That precious pair of rubber boots. 
So tall, so black, so shining ! 

They're just the things, the very 
things. 
For which our Ned's been pining. 

And now he calls them all his own, 
A happy thought comes o'er him. 

And when he kneels to say his prayers, 
He sets the boots before him. 

Then into' bed our darling goes, 
His treasures near him keeping ; 

For on the pillow one small head 
Between two boots is sleeping. 

Through snow, through slush, and in 
the rain, 

— never mind the weather ! 
The rubber boots, the little Ned, 

They trudge along together. 

His feet go dabbling in the brook. 
Just like two little fishes, 



HERE SITS THE LORD MAYOR. 



305 



And then be runs to tell mamma 

The funniest of wishes. 

"I wish I was a puss-tat, ma, 
Just like our old gray Molly, 

Then I could wear four rubber boots, 
Oh, wouldn't that be jolly ! " 



HERE SITS THE LORD MAYOR. 

Here sits the Lord Mayor . Forehead. 
Here sits his two men . . Eifes. 

Here sits the cock llight cheek 

Here sits the hen Left cheek. 

Here sit the little chickens Ti/; of 7?os^. 

Here they run in Mouth. 

Chin-chopper, chin-chop- 
per, chin- chopper, 
chin ! Chuck the chin. 



TEN TRUE FRIENDS. 

Ten true friends you have, 

Who, five in a row, 
Upon each side of you 

Go where you go. 

Suppose you are sleepy. 
They help you to bed ; 

Suppose you are hungry. 
They see that you are fed. 

They wake up your dolly 
And put on your clothes. 

And trundle her carriage 
Wherever she goes. 



And these ten tiny fellows. 
They serve you with ease ; 

And they ask nothing from you, 
But work hard to please. 

Now, with ten willing servants 

So trusty and true, 
Pray who would be lazy 

Or idle — would you ? 



LITTLE FINGERS. 



Busy little fingers, 

Everywhere they go, 
Rosy little fingers. 

The sweetest that I know ! 

Now into my work-box. 

All the buttons finding. 
Tangling up the knitting. 

Every spool unwinding ! 

Now into the basket 

Where the keys are hidden, 
Full of mischief looking, 

Knowing it forbidden. 

Then in mother's tresses. 
Now her neck enfolding, 

With such sweet caresses 
Keeping off a scolding. 

Daring little fingers. 

Never, never still ! 

Make them, Heavenly Father, 

Always do Thy will. 

Apples of Gold. 



3o6 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 




COUNTING BABY'S TOES 

Dear little bare feet, 
Dimpled and white, 

In your long night -gown 
Wrapped for the night, 

Come, let me count all 
Your queer little toes, 



Pink as the heart 

Of a shell or a rose. 
One is a lady 

That sits in the sun ; 
Two is a baby, 

And three is a nun ; 
Four is a lily 

With innocent breast ; 



THE m\Z PIGS. 



307 



And five is a birdie 
Asleep on her nest. 



THE FIVE PIGS. 



This pig went to market ; 

This pig stayed at home ; 

This pig had a bit of meat ; 

And this pig had none ; 

5. This pig said, wee, wee, vree ! 

I can't find my way home. 



TEN LITTLE TOES. 

Baby is ciad in his night-gown wliite, 
Pussy-cat purrs a soft good-night, 
And somebody tells, for somebody 

knows, 
The terrible tale of ten little toes. 

RIGHT FOOT. 

This big toe took a small boy Sam 
Into the cupboard after the jam; 
This httle toe said, " no ! no ! " 
This little toe was anxious to go ; 
This little toe said, " ' Tisn't quite 

right;" . 
This little tiny toe curled out of sight. 

LEFT FOOT. 

This big toe got suddenly stubbed ; 
This little toe got ruefully rubbed ; 
This little frightened toe cried out, 
"Bears!" 



This little timid toe, " Eun up stairs ! " 
Do^^^l came a jar with a loud slam! 

slam ! 
This httle tiny toe got all the jam ! 

Clara G. Dollinee. 




SKIPPING. 



Airily, airily, skip away : 

Set to work, all of you, trip away ! 

Over your head, and under your 

toes, 
That's the way the merry rope goes ! 
Aprons flap in the breezy air ; 
Fly away, lessons, this holiday fair 1 



3o8 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



THE FIRST OF IT'S KIND. 

" Oh, 'tis time we're up and doing !" it 
said, 
" Come out of your lazy beds ! 
I'm going to see what the world is 
like ; 
I'm tired of yon, sleepy heads !" 

" Who knows what's going on there 
above ? 
There's many a laugh and shout. 
Somewhere thej^'re having a jolly good 
time, 
I'll find what's it's all about." 

"Come with me, don't sleep any more. 
There's nothing at all to fear, 

I'm sure there's room enough up there. 
And I'm awfully crowded here. " 

So up in the world it flashed its way, 
And stood there dainty and white, 

While its comrades prepared to leave 
their beds, 
And follow it up to the light. 

What was it ? was it a snowdrop fair ? 

Not quite ; for to tell you the truth, 
It wasn't a brave little flower at all. 

It was just the baby's first tooth ! 

Bessie Chandler. 



TWO. 



Two little girls are better than one. 
Two little boys can double the fun, 
Two little birds can build a fine nest. 



Two little arms can love mother best- 
Two little ponies must go to a span ; 
Two little pockets has my little man, 
Two little eyes to open and close, 
Two little ears and one little nose, 
Two little elbows, dimpled and sweet, 
Two little shoes on two little feet. 
Two little lips and one little chin. 
Two little cheeks with a rose shut in ; 
Two little shoulders, chubby and 
strong. 




Two little legs running all day long. 
Two little prayers does my darling 

say. 
Twice does he kneel by my side each 

day- 
Two little folded hands, soft and 

brown, 
Two little eyelids cast meekly down — 
And two little angels guard him in 

bed, 
" One at the foot, and one at the 

head." 



"mamma can't find me!" 



309 



"MAMMA CAN'T FIND ME!' 

No little step do I hear in the hall, 
Only a sweet little laugh, that is all ; 
No dimpled arms 'round my neck hold 

me tight ; 
I've but a glimpse of two eyes very 

l)right, 
Two little hands a wee face try to 

screen, 
Baby is hiding, that's plain to be seen. 
" Where is my precious, I've missed 

so all day?" 
"Mamma can't find me !" the pretty 

lips say. 

'<Dear me, I wonder wdiere baby can 

be?" 
Then I go by and pretend not to see. 
"Not in the parlor, and not on the 

stairs, 
Then I must i)eep under sofa and 

chairs." 
The dear little rogue is now laughing 

outright, 
Two little arms 'round my neck clasp 

me tight. 
. Home will, indeed, be sad, weary and 

lone. 
When mamma can't find you, my 

darling, my own. 



THE NAUGHTY LITTLE GIRL, 

She is cunning, she is tricky, 
I am greatly grieved to tell. 



And her hands are always sticky 
With chocolate caramel; 

Her dolly's battered features 
Tell of many a frantic hurl, 

She's the terror of her teachers — 
That naughty little girl ! 




i/^;.:.i. 



IM 



She dotes upon bananas. 

And she smears them on my knees. 
And she peppers my havanas. 

And she laughs to hear me sneeze ; 
And she steals into my study 

And she turns my books a-whirl. 
And her boots are always muddy — 

This naughty little girl ! 



3IO 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



"When she looks as she were dreaming 

Of the angels in the air, 
I know she's only scheming 

How to slyly pull my hair ; 
Yet — why, I can't discover — 

Spite of every tangled curl, 

She's a darling, and I love her — 

That naughty little girl ! 

Samuel Mintubn Peck. 









A VERY GOOD GIRL. 

Our merry little daughter 
Was climbing out of bed — 

"Don't you think that I'm a good girl ?" 
Our little daughter said, 

"For all day long this lovely day. 
And all day long to-morrow. 



I ha\Ti't done a single thing. 
To give my mother sorrow !" 

St. Nicholas Magazine. 



THE PET OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 




Thou art so very sweet and fair, 
Witlvsuch a heaven in thine eyes, 

It almost seems an over-care 
To ask thee to be good or wise ; 

As if a little bird were blamed 

Because its song, unthinking flows ; 

As if a rose should be ashamed 
Of being nothing but a rose. 



BEDLAM TOWN. 

Do you want to peep into Bedlam 

town ? 
Then come with me as the day swings 

down. 

Into the cradle, whose rocker's rim 
Some people call the horizon dim. 

All the mischief of all the fates 
Seems to center in four little pates. 

Just an hour before we say 
"It is time for bed now, stop your 
play." 

Oh the racket and noise and roar, 
As they prance like a caravan over 
the floor. 



THE PATTER OF LITTLE FEET. 



311 



With never a thought of the head that 

aches, 
And never a heed to the "mercy sakes," 

And "pity save us," and "Oh, dear, 

dear," 
That all the culprits plainly hear. 

A monkey, a parrot, a guinea hen. 
Warriors, elephants, Indian men, 

A salvation army, a grizzly hear. 
Are all at once in the nursery there. 

And when the clock in the hall strikes 
seven, 

It sounds to us like a voice from Hea- 
ven. 

And each of the elves in a warm night- 
gown, 
Marches away out of Bedlam Town. 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 



Now to the hrook he wanders. 
In swift and noiseless flight. 

Splashing the sparkling ripples 
Like a fairy water-sprite. 

No sand under fabled river 

Has gleams like his golden hair, 
No pearly sea-shell is fairer 



THE PATTER OF LITTLE 
FEET. 

Up with the sun in the morn- 
ing, 
Away to the garden he hies, ,-- 
To see if the sleeping blossoms - 
Have begun to open their *"^^ 
eyes. 

Running a race with the wind, 
With a step as light and fleet, 

Under my window I hear 
The patter of little feet. 




Than his slender ankles bare. 
And watches the "poor man's blessing" 
I cannot envy his lot. 

He has pictures, books, and music, 
Bright fountains, and noble trees, 
Rare store of blossoming roses. 



312 



EABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



Birds from beyond the seas. 
Nor the rosiest stem of coral, 

That blushes in ocean's bed, 
Is sweet as the flash that follows 

Our darling's airy tread. 

From a broad window my neighbor, 
Looks down on our little cot, 

But never does childish laughter 
His homeward footsteps greet ; 

His stately halls ne'er echo 
To the tread of innocent feet. 

This child is our "sparkling picture," 
A birdling that chatters and sings, 

Sometimes a sleeping cherub, 
(Our other one has wings). 

His heart is a charmed casket, 

Full of all that's cunning and sweet. 

And no harpsthng holds such music 
As follows bis twinkling feet. 

When the glory of sunset opens 

The highway by angels trod. 
And seems to unbar the city 

Whose builder and maker is God- 
Close to the crystal portal, 

I see by the gates of pearl. 
The eyes of our other angel — 

A twin-born little girl. 

And I ask to be taught and directed. 
To guide his footsteps aright ; 

So to live that I may be ready 
To walk in sandals of light — 



And hear, amid songs of welcome. 
From messengers trusty and fleet, 

On the starry floor of heaven, 
The patter of little feet. 



THE GAMBOLS OF CHILDREN. 

Down the dimpled greensward dancing 
Bursts a flaxen-headed bevy, — 

Bud-lipt boys and girls advancing, 
Love's irregular little levy. 

Rows of liquid eyes in laughter, 
How they glimmer, how they 
quiver ! 

Sparkling one another after. 
Like bright ripples on a river. 

Tipsy band of rubious faces. 
Flushed with Joy's ethereal spirit. 

Make your mocks and sly grimaces 
At Love's self, and do not fear it. 
Geokge Darl. 



LITTLE JIM. 



Our little Jim 

Was such a limb 

His mother scarce could master him ; 

His eyes were blue 

And looked you through. 

And seemed to say : 

"I'll have my way ! " 

His age was six, 

His saucy tricks 

But made you smile, 



WISHING. 



313 



Though all the while 

You said : "You limb, 

You wicked Jim, 

Be quiet, do !" 

Poor little Jim ! 

Our eyes are dim 

When soft and low we speak of him. 

No clattering shoe 

Goes running through 

The silent room, 

Now wrapped in gloom. 

So still he lies, 

"With fast shut eyes, 

No need to say : 

Alas ! to-day : 

"You little limb. 

You baby Jim, 

Be quiet, do !" 

Geokge R. Sims. 



WISHING. 



Where the grass grows sweet and tall, 
And the shallow waters fall 

Over pebbles, smooth and bright, 
Once I saw a lovely sight. — 

Seven little ones at play. 

Telling what thej^'d do some day. 
When " grown up." What they'd he, 

What they'd have. Oh, fair to see. 

Was rollicking Teddy and blue-eyed 
Joe, 
Close where the tallest grasses 
grow; 



Eosy-cheeked Jennie, and dimple- 
cheeked Nan, 
Listening to Teddy's "When I'm a 
man." 

There were "two and two, and then 
three, " 

They counted themselves in glee, 
And the " three " were Katie and Nell, 

And Johnny, poor wee Johnny Bell. 

Jennie wished for a house so fine, 
And Nan in a silk dress to shine ; 

While Ted "a ship, its captain to be," 
And Joe said low, " wliile you're at 
sea. 




I'll build big houses on the land, 
A home for Jennie, tall and grand." 

They laughed at this right merrily, 
The children four and the children 
three. 

"An artist I'll be," said Nelhe then, 
" When Teddy and Joe are gro^vn 
to men, 



314 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



I'll paint this bank and grasses fair, 
And the moon a-rising over there." 

Poor httle Johnny I could not see, 
But he made the kindest wish to me • 

"I'll work, I'll work, as hard as I can. 
To help my mother, when I'm a 
man." 

Katie had listened to all the rest, 
With brave thoughts battling in 
her breast, 

" When I'm a woman, I'd rather l)e 
Useful, than (tnytJtliifi else,'' said she. 



THE CHILDREN'S BED TIME. 

The clock strikes seven in the hall, 
The curfew of the children's day. 

That calls each little pattering foot 
From dance and song and lively 

play ; 
Their day that in a wider light 
Floats like a silver day-moon white. 
Nor in our darkness sinks to rest. 
But sets within a golden west. 

Ah, tender hour that sends a drift 
Of children's kisses through the 

house, 
And cuckoo notes of sweet "Good 

night," 
That thoughts of heaven and home 

arouse 
And a soft stir to sense and heart, 
As when the bee and blossom part ; 
And little feet that patter slower. 
Like the last droppings of a shower. 



And in the children's room aloft. 

What blossom shapes do gaily slip 
Their daily sheaths, and rosy run 

From clasping hand and kissing lip, 
A naked sweetness to the eye — 
Blossom and babe and butterfly 
In witching one, so dear a sight ! 
An ecstasy of life and light. 

Then lily-drest, in angel white. 

To mother's knee they trooping 
come. 
The soft palms fold like kissing shells. 
And they and we go singing home — 
Their bright heads bowed and worship- 
ing. 
As though some glory of the spring, 
Some daffodil that moclis the day, 
Should fold his golden palms and pray. 

The gates of paradise swing wide 

A moment's space in soft accord, 
And those dread angels. Life and 
Death, 
A moment veil the flaming sword, 
As o'er this weary world forlorn 
From Eden's secret heart is borne 
That breath of Paradise most fair. 
Which mothers call "the children's 
prayer." 

Then kissed, on beds we lay them 
down. 
As fragrant white as clover'd sod. 
And all the upper floors grow hushed 
With children's sleep, and dews of 
God. 



POOR DOLLY. 



315 



And as our stars their beams do hide, 
The stars of twihght, opening wide, 
Take up the heavenly tale at even, 
And light us on to God and heaven. 



I could cry ; but I'm really ashamed 
to, 
Since you haven't cried, — not a 
wink ; 



<t 



t\s 






kjp. 




POOR DOLLY. 



baby, my beautiful baby ! 

My own little, dear little Sue 1 
It is dreadful, just perfectly dreadful, 

To think what has happened to you ! 



But I know in my heart, precious baby, 
AVhat very sad thoughts you must 
think. 

And break your poor arm, dear, and 
hurt you. 



i6 



BABY DAYS AND BABY PLAYS. 



And scratch j-our sweet rose- cheeks 
and all. 
I'm 'fraid you will never believe me, 

But I truly did not mean to fall. 
I've torn a big hole in my stocking, 

And got a deep scratch in my arm ; 
But I don't care for anything, dolly, 
Except that I've done you such 
harm. 

Oh, dear! it has spoiled all your 
beauty. 



And you were so handsome before ! 

I'm 'fraid — please excuse me, my 

darling — 

You'll be "Queen of Beauty" no 

more. 

But oh, I shall love my poor baby 

Far better than ever, I know. 

If she weren't 'most an angel, she 

never 

Would lie here and smile at me so. 
Maky D. Brine. 




Lessons of Life. 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 




BOYS WANTED. 

Boys of spirit, boys of will, 

Boys of muscle, brain and power, 



Fit to cope with anything — 
These are wanted every hour. 

Not the weak and whining drones. 
That all trouble magnify ; 



319 



320 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



Not the watchword of " I can't." 
But the nobler one "I'll try." 

Do whate'er you have to do 
Witii a true and earnest zeal ; 

Bend your sinews to the task ; 
Put your shoulder to the wheel. 

In the counting-house or store, 
Wheresoever you may be, 

From your future efforts, boys. 
Comes a nation's destiny. 



A GOOD NAME. 



Children, choose it, 

Don't refuse it, 
'Tis a precious diadem ; 

Highly prize it, 

Don't despise it, 
You will need it when you're men. 

Love and cherish. 

Keep and nourish, 
'Tis more precious far than gold ; 

Watch and guard it, 

Don't discard it, 
You will need it when you're old. 



I CANT AND I CAN. 

"I can't" is a sluggard, too lazy to 
work; 
From duty he srinks, every task he 
will shirk; 



No bread on his board, and no meal 
in his bag. 
His house is a ruin, his coat is a 
rag. 

"I can" is a worker; he tills the 
broad fields, 
And digs from the earth all the 
wealth that it yields ; 
The hum of his spindles begins with 
the light. 
And the fires of his forges are blaz- 
ing all night. 

W. A. Butler. 



A BOY'S BIRTHDAY. 

Once upon a winter night. 

When the snow lay cold and white. 




Drojjped a baby from the skies 
With a pair of big brown eyes ; 



A boy'vS birthday. 



321 



Without clothes, or food, or name. 
Eight into our hearts it came, 
And "\ve loved it from that minute 
As if there were "millions in it." 




Soon a happy year had flown ; 
He could creep and stand alone, 
Now mamma and Eob and Fritz, 
Do a hundred pretty tricks ; 
He was sweet, but still a tartar. 
So we called him little Arthur, 
"Pet" and "Darling," "Love," and 

" Pride," 
And a hundred names beside. 

When another year went by. 
Could I tell if i should try 
Half how lovely he had grown ? — 
Walking, like a man, alone ; 
Talking with such babbling words. 



Like the cooing of the birds, 
With a tangled crop of curls 
Hanging round him — like a girl's. 

Three years old ; now look for squalls, 
Trials, troubles, cries and falls ! 
Up and down like any rocket ! 
In his dress a little pocket 
Filled with tops and nails and strings, 
And some fifty other things ; 
Three feet tall, or taller maybe — 
Can this be my little baby ? 

Still another birthday, dear, 
What a four-year colt is here ! 
Leaping, running, skipping, prancing, 
In and out on swift feet dancing. 
Handling marbles, spinning tops, 
Spending cents in candy-shops ; 
In kilted skirt and buttoned jacket. 
Always ripe for fun and racket ! 

Now as sure as I'm alive, 
That outrageous boy is five ! 
Send him off to school at once — 
^\e don't want to own a dunce ! 
Full of tricks as any marten — 
Get him to a kindergarten ; 
There he'll learn to use his wits. 
Without any ugly fits. 

Six and what do I behold ! 
No more waving curls of gold. 
But a little wig of brown. 
Closely cropped about the crown. 
No more skirts, but little breeches 



322 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



Full of many seams and stitches 
Growing, every single day, 
In the most surprising way. 




Seven to-day : a boy at last ! 
Time and tide have traveled fast ; 
There he lies so fine and tall, 
Jacket, trousers, boots and all ; 
He can spell, and read, and write, 
He is good and gay and bright. 
And his life goes bravely on. 
But where is my baby gone ! 

So now I hope — what do I hope ? Oh, 

scores and scores of things : 
I hope he'll learn to comb his hair, 

and tie his own shoe strings ; 
I hope he'll never catch a cold in hail 

or snow or rain, 
And grow to be full six feet high 

without one growing pain. 



MAIDENHOOD. 

Maiden ! with the meek, brown eyes. 
In Avliose orbs a shadow lies 
Like the dusk in evening skies ! 



Thou whose locks outshine the sun. 
Golden tresses wreathed in one. 
As the braided streamlets run ! 

Standing, with reluctant feet. 
Where the brook and river meet, 
Womanhood and childhood 
fleet! 

Gazing, with a timid glance, 
On the brooklet's swift ad- 
vance 
On the river's broad expanse ! 

Deep and still, that gliding stream 
Beautiful to thee must seem, 
As the river of a dream. 

Then why pause with indecision, 
When bright angels in thy vision 
Beckon thee to fields Elysian ? 

Seest thou shadows sailing by, 
As the dove, with startled eye. 
Sees the falcon's shadow fly? 

Hearest thou voices on the shore. 
That our ears perceive no more, 
Deafened by the cataract's roar? 

Oh, thou child of many prayers ! 
Life hath quicksands — life hath snares ! 
Care and age come unawares ! 

Like the swell of some sweet tune. 
Morning rises into noon, 
May glides onward into June. 

Childhood is the bough where slum- 
bered 



MAIDENHOOD 



323 




MAIDENHOOD, 



Birds and blossoms many numbered ; 
Age that bough with snows encumbered. 

Gather, then, each flower that grows, 
When the young heart overflows. 
To embalm that tent of snows. 

Bear a lily in thy hand ; 

Gates of brass can not withstand 

One touch of that magic wand. 

Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth. 



In thy heart the dew of youth, 
On thy lips the smile of truth. 

Oh, that dew, like balm, shall steal 
Into wounds that cannot heal. 
Even as sleep our eyes doth seal ! 

And that smile, like svmshine, dart 
Into many a sunless heart. 
For a smile of God thou art. 

Henbt Wadswobth Longfellow. 



324 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 




NEVER OUT OF SIGHT. 

I know a little saying, 

That is altogether true ; 
My little boy, my little girl. 

The saying is for you. 
'Tis this, blue and black eyes, 

And gray — so deep and bright — 
No child in all this careless world 

Is ever out of sight. 

No matter whether fields or glen. 

Or city's crowded way, 
Or pleasure's laugh or labor's hum, 

Entice your feet to stay. 
Some one is always watching you ; 

And, whether wrong or right, 
No child in all this busy world 

Is ever out of sight. 



Someone is always watching 
you. 
And marking what you do. 
To see if all your childhood's 
acts 
Are honest, brave, and 
true ; 
And, watchful more than 
mortal kind, 
God's angels pure and 
white, 
In gladness or in sorrowing. 
Are keeping you in sight. 

0, bear in mind, m}' little 
one, 
And let your mark be high ! 
You do whatever thing you do, 
Beneath some seeing eye. 
0, bear in mind, my little ones, 

And keep your good name bright, 
No child upon this round, round earth 
Is ever out of sight. 



HIS WISH. 



My seven-year-old by the window 
stood. 
When the rain was falling the other 
day, — 
A perfect picture of boyish mirth, 

A dainty breath of life's early May ; 
His eyes as blue as the azure skies. 
His mouth like an angel's when he 
smiled : 



LITTLE THINGS. 



325 



Ami I SiiicI, "What beautif ill thoughts 
arise 
In the sinless mind of a little child '?" 

Does he hear the sound of spirit 
wings ? 
Does he see a vision of heaven's 
own joy? 
Is he listening while the angels sing '? 
"What are 3'ou thinking about my 
boy?" 
I felt presumptuous to break the spell, 
Ho seemed so perfect — my tiny 
bud- 
But he said : "IMamma, I'd just as lief 
tell: 
I wish I was digging out in the 
mud." 

Marie L. Rittek 



LITTLE THINGS. 

A cup of' water timely brought, 

An offered easy chair, 
A turning of the window-blind. 

That all may feel the air ; 
An early flower bestowed unasked, 

A light and cautious tread, 
A voice to softest whispers hushed 

To spare an aching head — 
Oh, thiugs like these, though little 
things, 

The purest love disclose. 
As fragrant atoms in the air 

Eeveal the hidden rose. 



A LITTLE BUILDER. 



I'm a little builder, 
And I mean to try 

Hard, to build a mansion 
'W^ay up in the sky. 




Not like that big tower 
Mr. Babel made, 

'Cause he was so wicked. 
And so awful 'fraid. 

But when I feel naughty, 
I am going to say 



326 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



Little prayers that mamma 
Taught me how to pray. 

And when baby's fretful, 
I shall let him see 

What a patient sister 
Susie's learned to be. 

That's the way I'll build it, 
Mamma told me how ; 

Guess I'll stop my talking, 
And beg'n it now. 



LITTLE MOMENTS. 

Little moments make an hour • 
Little thoughts, a book ; 

Little seeds, a tree or flower ; 
Water drops, a brook ; 

Little deeds of faith and love. 

Make a home for you above. 



PERSEVERANCE. 

The boy who does a stroke, and stops — 
Will ne'er a great man be ; 

'Tis the aggregate of single drops 
That makes the sea the sea. 

Not all at once the morning streams 

Its gold above the gray, 
It takes a thousand little beams 

To make the day the day 

The farmer needs must sow and till 
And wait the wheaten head. 



Then cradle, thresh, and go to mill, 
Before his bread is bread. 

Swift heels may get the early shout, 

But, spite of all the din. 
It is the 2^<tfic^it holding out 

That makes the winner win. 



WORK WHILE YOU WORK. 



Work while you work. 
And play while you play. 
That is the way 
To be cheerful and gay. 
All that you do. 
Do with your might. 
Things done by halves 
Are never done right ; 
One thing at once, 
And that done well. 
Is a very good rule, 
As wise men tell. 
Moments are useless, 
Trifled away — 
Work while you work. 
And play while you play. 



SUNSHINE AND SHOWERS. 

Two children stood at their father's' 
gate. 
Two girls with golden hair, 
And their eyes ^vere bright, and their 
voices glad. 
Because the morn was fair ; 



SUNSHINE AND SHOWERS. 



327 




For tliey said, "We will take that long, 
long walk 
To the Lawthorn copse to-day. 
And gather great bunches of lovely 
flowers 
From off the scented way ; 
And oh ! we shall be so happy there, 
'Twill be sorrow to come away !" 

As the children spoke a little cloud 

Passed slowly across the sky, 
And one looked up in her sister's face 

With a tear-drop in her eye. 
But the other said, "Oh ! heed it not, 

'Tis far too fair to rain. 
That little cloud may search the sky 

For other clouds in vain," 
And soon the children's voices rose 

In merriment again. 



But ere the morning hours had waned 

The sky had changed its hue. 
And that one cloud had chased away 

The whole great heaven of blue. 
The rain fell down in heavy drops. 

The wind began to blow. 
And the children, in their nice, warm 
room. 

Went fretting to and fro ; 
For they said, "When we have aught 
in store. 

It always happens so !" 




328 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



Now these two fair-haired sisters 

Had a brother out at sea, 
A httle midshipman, aboard 

The gahant Victoni ; 
And on that self-same morning 

When they stood beside the gate 
His ship was wrecked, and on a raft 

He stood all desolate, 
With the other sailors romid him, 

Prepared to meet their fate. 

Beyond, they saw the cool, green land. 

The land with the waving trees, 
And her little brooks, that rise and 
fall 
Like biitterflLes to the breeze. 
But above them the burning noontide 
sun, 
With scorching stillness shone ; 
Their throat were parched with bitter 
thirst. 
And they knelt down one by one. 
And praj^ed to God for a drop of rain. 
And a gale to waft them on. 

And then that little cloud was sent, 

That shower in mercy given, 
And as a bird before the breeze 

Their bark was landward driven. 
And some few mornings after. 

When the children met once more. 
And their brother told the story. 

They knew it was the hour 
When they had wished for sunshine, 

And God had sent the shower ! 



THE NARROW PATH. 

We get back our mete as we meas- 
ure — ■- 
We cannot do wrong and feel right ; 
Nor can we give pain and gain pleas- 
ure. 
For justice avenges each slight. 
The air for the wings of the sparrow, 
The bush for the robin and wren, 
But always the path that is narrow 
And straight for the children of 
men. 



A BIT OF POTTERY. 

The potter stood at his daily work, 

One patient foot on the ground, 
The other with never-slacking speed, 

Turning his swift wheel round. 
Silent we stood beside him there 

Watching the restless knee. 
Till my friend said low, in pitying 
voice, 

" How tired his foot must be !" 

The potter never paused in his work. 

Shaping the wondrous thing ; 
'Twas only a common flower-pot, 

But perfect in fasliioning. 
Slowly he raised his patient eyes, 

With homely truth inspired : 
"No, marm, it isn't the foot that 
kicks — 

The one that stands gets tired." 



DO IT NOW. 



329 



DO IT NOW. 


NEVER PUT OFF. 


Whene'er a duty waits for thee, 


" Never put off till to-morrow, 


"With sober judgment view it, 


What should be done to-day ; " 


And never idly wish it done ; 


This is a motto for those who work, 


Begin at once, and do it. 


Not more than for those who play ! 


For Sloth says falsely, " By and by 




Is just as well to do it ;" 


TWO LITTLE GIRLS. 




I know a little girl 

(You? 0, no!) 
Who, wdien she's asked to go to bed. 

Does just so : 
She brings a dozen wrinkles out 

And takes the dimples in ; 
She puckers up her pretty lips, 

And then she does begin : — 
" Oh, dear me ! I don't see why — 

All the others sit up late. 
And why can't I?" 

Another little girl I know. 

With curly pate, 
Who says : " When I'm a great big 
gii-1, 
I'll sit up late ; 
But mamma says 'twill make me grow 
' To be an early bird." 

But present strength is surest strength; So she and dolly trot away 



Begin at once, and do it. 

And find not lions in the way. 
Nor faint if thorns bestrew it ; 

But bravely try, and strength will come. 
For God will help thee to it. 



Without another word. 
Oh, the sunny smile and the eyes so 

blue ! 
And — and — why, yes, now I think 

of it. 
She looks like you ! 



33^ 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



GET UP EARLY. 



The sun is uprising, the flowers are 

upspringing, 
And the birds are so happy that they 

cannot help singing : 
So wake, httle children, you've had 

enough slumber; 
Out of doors 3'ou will find there are 

joys without number. 

The trees and the grass in the sun- 
shine are gleaming ; 

In the fresh morning air the bright 
waters are streaming : 

Oh ! waste not in sleep all these beau- 
tiful hours : 

Early rismg is health ; ask the birds 
and the flowers ! 



Till her mother rejoiced when she 
went to play. 

"I love 3'ou, mother," said little Fan ; 
" To-day I'll help you all I can." 
To the cradle then she did softly creep, 
And rocked thp baby till it fell asleep. 



WHICH LOVED BEST. 



" I love you, mother," said /^<; 

little John. 
Then, forgetting work, his capf {-^ 

went on. 
And he was off to the garden ^ 

swing. 
Leaving his mother the wood 

to bring. 

*' I love you, mother," said rosy Nell ; 
" I love you better than tongue can 
tell." 

Then she teased and pouted full half 
the day, 




Then, stepping softly, she took the 

broom. 
And swept the floor, and dusted the 

room ; 
Busy and happy all day was she, 
Helpful and cheerful as child could be. 



DARE TO SAY NO. 



331 



"I love you, mot'her," again they said — 


When they have learned you're not 


Tliree little children going to bed : 


afraid 


How do you think that mother guessed 


To stand and answer, No. 


Which of them really loved her best ? 




Joy Allison. 


And when temptations rise within, 
And plead to "come," or "go," 




DARE TO SAY NO. 


And do a wrong for "just this once," 




Be sure you answer. No. 


Dear children, you are sometimes led 




To sorrow, sin, and woe, 


For when you once have done a 


Because you have not courage quite. 


Wrong, 


And dare not answer, No. 


The Right receives a blow, — 




And Wrong will triumph easier now. 


When playmates tell you this, or that 


So haste and answer. No. 


Is "very nice to do," 




See first what mamma says, or if 


There's many a little boy and girl, 


You think 'tis wrong, say No. 


And man and woman too. 




Have gone to ruin and to death 


Be always gentle, but be firm, 


For want of saying. No ! 


And wheresoe'er you go, 




If you are asked to do what's wrong, 


So, young or old, or great or small, 


Don't fear to answer, No. 


Don't fail, whate'er jon do. 




To stand for Eight and nobly dare 


False friends may laugh and sneer at 

you. 


To speak an honest No. 


Temptations round jon flow, 




But prove yourself both brave and 
true. 
And firmly tell them. No. 


THE SISTERS AT WORK. 


Lauka. I want to be out in the 




garden so pleasant ; 


Sometimes a thing that's not a sin, 


There's no time for play, sister mine. 


Y^ou might be asked to do, — 


like the present. 


But when you think it is not best, 




Don't yield, but answer. No. 


Edith. Tlie best time for play and 




for healthy enjojTnent, 


True friends will honor you the more, 


Believe me, dear Laura, is after em- 


Ah, yes, and false ones too. 


ployment. 



332 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



Laura. Where the sunshine is smil- ' So I shut my eyes and Hstened to 



ing on trees and on Howers, 
Let us go far away from this dull 
room of ours. 

Edith. As for flowers, see those I 

have put in the pitcher : 
In flowers I'm sure that we 
need not be richer. 

Laura. Ah ! stupid it is, 

when the soft breeze is 

blowing, 
Shut up in the house, to be 

kept at our sewing. 

Edith. But after our sew- 
. ing, my dear, is well 

ended, 
A walk in the garden and 

grove will be splendid. 

Laura. By the way you 

keep on with your 

stitching and stitching, 
One would say you must find it a task 
quite bewitching. 

EriTH. So I do ; and I'll tell you the 

rule I'm pursuing, — 
'Tis to put my best work into what I 

am doing. 



everything they said ; 
And first they said that Polly and 

Phil were coming here. 
And a good, good soul was Polly, but 

Phil was always queer ; 




FUNNY UNCLE PHIL. 

I Heard the grown folks talking, last 
night when I lay abed, 



And they never, never, never in all 

their lives could see 
How Polly came to marry him, nor 

how they could agree ; 
For she was just as bright and sweet 

as any flower in May, 
But he was tight as a drum-head, and 

as black as a stormy day. 

And his nose was always poking into 

other folk's affairs. 
And he was altogether too fond of 

sj)litting hairs ; 



FUNNY UNCLE PHIL. 



000 



And lie had so many corners you 

never could come near 
Without your hitting some of them, 

or being in constant fear. 

"Well, I listened very hard, and I 
'membered every word, 



m 




He took me gently on Ins knee, 
And wound my longest curl about his finger carefully. 



And I thought it was the queerest 
thing a body ever heard : 

And in the evening, when I heard the 
chaise come down the hill, 

I almost couldn't wait to see my funny 
Uncle Phil. 



But Oh ! what stories grown folks tell ! 

He wasn't black at all ! 
And he hadn't any corners, but was 

plump and fair and small ; 
His nose turned up a little, but then 

it was so wee. 
How it could poke so very much I 
reall}' couldn't see. 

And when he saw me staring 

he nodded hard, and 

smiled ; 
And then he asked them 

softly if I was Elsie's 

child ; 
And when grandma said I 

was he took me gently 

on his knee. 
And wound my longest curl 

about his finger care- 

fully. 

And he told 'bout my 
mamma when she was 
a little girl. 
And all the time he talked 
he kei:)t his fingers on 
that curl : 
Till at last I couldn't stand 
• it, and I slipped down 
by his chair. 
And asked him how he came to be so 
fond of splitting hair. 

My! how he stared! and Jimmy 
laughed, and grandma shook her , 
head, 



334 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



And grandpa had his awfal look, and 

Uncle Sam turned red ; 
And then the clock ticked very loud, 

the kitchen was so still, 
And I knew 'twas something dreadful 

I had said to Uncle Phil. 

But I couldn't help it then, so I told 

him every word, 
And he listened very quietly ; he 

never spoke nor stirred, 
Till I told him 'bout the corners, and 

said I didn't know 
How he could have so many when 

there didn't any show ; 

And then he laughed and laughed, till 

the kitchen fairly shook • 
And he gave the frightened grown 

folks such a bright and funny 

look. 
And said, " 'Tis true, my little girl, 

when Polly married me 
I was full of ugly corners, but she's 

smoothed them down, you see." 

And then they all shook hands again, 

and Jimmy gave three cheers, 
And Uncle Sam said little pitchers 

had most monstrous ears ; 
And grandma kissed Aunt Polly ; but 

then she looked at me. 
And said Fd better " meditate " while 

she was getting tea, 

That means that I must sit and think 
what naughty things I've done ; 



It must be 'cause I'm little yet, — they 
seemed to think 'twas fun. 

I don't quite understand it all ; well, 
by and by I will 

Creep softly up to him, and ask my 
funny Uncle Phil, 



AN APRIL JOKE. 

Master Ned on the doorstep sat, 

Busily thinking away ; 
"Now, what shall I plan for a clever 
trick. 

For an April-fool to play ? 
There's Tom, he's mean as a boy can 
be. 

And he never can pass me by 
Without a word that is rude and cross, 

And maybe a punch on the sly." 

"Some trick I'll find that'll pay him 
off. 

And teach him a lesson too." 
So Master Ned he pondered a while, 

Till the dimples grew and grew ; 
And he laughed at last as away he ran, 

"I'll make him sorry," thought he, 
"For the many times he has done his 
best 

To tease and to trouble me." 

On April first, with the early dawn. 
Was found at Tommy's door 

A package tied, and "Master Tom" 
Was the only address it bore. 



BALLAD OF THE TEMPEST. 



335 



"Tis onlv a trick of Ned's," said 
Tom, 
"He owes me many a one ; 
But I'll match him yet — he'd better 
beware — 
Before the day is done." 

Then Tom peeped in at his package. 

Oh, what a shamefaced fellow was he ! 
A handsome book, and a line wliich 
read, 
"Accept this, Tom, from me." 
And this is the way in which Tom was 
"fooled;" 
And afterward, meeting Ned, 
"Your trick has beaten all mine for 
good : 
Forgive me, old fellow," he said. 



BALLAD OF THE TEMPEST. 



We were crowded in the cabin. 
Not a soul would dare to sleep ; 

It was midnight on the waters. 
And a storm was on the deep, 

'Tis a fearful thing in winter 
To be shattered by the blast, 

And to hear the rattling trumpet 
Thunder, "Cut away the mast!" 

As thus we sat in darkness. 

Each one busy with his prayers, 

"We are lost ! " the captain shouted. 
As he staggered down the stairs. 



But his little daughter whispered. 
As she took his icy hand, 

"Isn't God upon the ocean. 

Just the same as on the land ?" 

Then we kissed the little maiden, 
And we spoke in better cheer, 

And we anchored safe in harbor 
When the morn Avas shining clear. 
James T. Fields. 



BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU SAY. 

In speaking of a person's faults, 

Pray don't forget your own ; 
Eemember those in houses, glass, 

Should never throw a stone. 
If we have nothing else to do 

But talk of those who sin, 
'Tis better we commence at home. 

And from that point begin. 

We have no right to judge a man. 

Until he's fairly tried ; 
Should we not like his company, 

We know the world is wide. 
Some may have faults — and who has 
not ? 

The old as well as young ; 
We may, perhaps, for ought we 
know, 

Have fifty to their one. 

I'll tell you of a better plan, 

And find it works full well ; 
To try my own defects to cure, 



336 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



Before of others tell ; 
And though I sometimes hope to 
be 

No worse than some I know, 
My own shortcomings bid me let 

The faults of others go. 

Then let us all, when we commence 

To slander friend or foe. 
Think of the harm one word may 
do, 

To those we little know ; 
Eemember curses, sometimes, like 

Our chickens, "roost at home ;" 
Don't speak of other's faults until 

We have none of our own. 



BEAUTIFUL THINGS. ' 

many things are beautiful ! 

The bird that sings and flies ; 
The setting sun 
When day is done ; 

The rainbow in the skies. 

The gentle lamb, so innocent. 
The dove, so tender, true, 

The violets. 

With dew drops wet. 
So sweet and fair to view. 

But there is one more beautiful. 
More tender, sweet and mild :- 
The girl or boy, 
A parent's joy, — 
The loved and loving child. 



AT THE PUMP. 



Pump away, pump away, sister of 

ours ! 
Water's the thing for us and the flowers ; 
Eoses and children would droop, day 

by day. 
Had they no water : so Jane, pump 

away. 



/Me ' . to 




Water for washing, and water for 

drinking ; 
There's nothing hke water, fresh wa- 
ter, I'm thinking : 



TIRED MOTHERS. 



337 



Put nothing but water in cup and in 

pitcher, 
And then, merry men, you'll be wiser 

and richer. 



TIRED MOTHERS. 

A little elbow leans upon your knee, 

Your tired knee that has so much to 
bear ; 

A child's dear eyes are looking lov- 
ingly 

From underneath a thatch of tangled 
hair. 

Perhaps you do not heed the velvet 
touch 

Of warm, moist fingers, folding yours 
so tight ; 

You do not prize this blessing over- 
much, — 

You almost are too tired to pray to-night. 

But it is blessedness ! A year ago 

I did not see it as I do to-day — 

We are so dull and thankless ; and 

too slow 
To catch the sunshine till it slips away. 
And now it seems surpassing strange 

to me, 
That, while I wore the badge of moth- 
erhood, 
I did not kiss more oft and tenderly 
The little child that brought me only 
good. 

And if some night when you sit down 
to rest. 



You miss this elbow from your tired 
knee, — 

This restless curling head from off 
your breast, — 

This lisping that chatters constantly ; 

If from your own the dimpled hands 
had slipped 

And ne'er would nestle in your palm 
again ; 

If the white feet into their grave had 
tripped, 

I could not blame you for your heart- 
ache then. 

I wonder so that mothers ever fret 
At little children clinging to their gown ; 
Or that the footprints, when the days 

are wet. 
Are ever black enough to make them 

frown. 
If I could find a little muddy boot. 
Or cap, or jacket, on my chamber 

floor, — 
If I could kiss a rosy, restless foot. 
And hear it patter in my house once 

more, — 

If I could mend a broken cart to-day, 
To-morrow make a kite to reach the sky. 
There is no woman in God's world 

could say 
She was more blissfully content than I. 
But ah ! the dainty pillow next my own 
Is never rumpled by a shining head , 
My singing birdling from its nest has 

flown. 
The little boy I used to kiss is dead. 

Mat RrLET Smith. 



JO' 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 




JOY SHARED. 

Ripe, red apples, — Oh, how nice ! 
Buttered bread, — a precious shce ! 
Little Nelly, good and fair. 
Will her joy with Johnny share. 



BE TRUE, BOYS. 



Whatever you are, be brave, boys ! 
The liar's a coward and slave, boys ! 

Though clever at ruses 

And sharp at excuses. 
He's a sneaking and pitiful knave, boys 



Whatever you are, be frank, boys ! 
'Tis better than money and rank, boys ! 

Still cleave to the right, 

Be lovers of light ; 
Be open, above board, and frank, boys ! 

Whatever you are, be kind, boys ! 

Be gentle in manners and mind, boys ! 
Leave to others the shamming, 
The "greeting" and "cramming;" 

In fun and in earnest, be true, boys ! 



BEGINNING OF VICE. 

A little theft, a small deceit. 

Too often leads to more ; 
'Tis hard at first, but tempts the feet 

As through an open door. 
Just as the broadest rivers run 

From small and distant springs, 
The greatest crimes that men have 
done 

Have grown from little things. 



LITTLE ACTS OF KINDNESS. 



Little acts of kindness 

Trifling though they are, 
How they serve to brighten 

This dark world of care ! 
Little acts of kindness, 

Oh, how potent they. 
To dispel the shadows • 

Of life's cloudy day ! 



vSORROW vSHARED. 



339 



Little acts of kindness, 

How they cheer the heart ! 
^yhat a work! of gladness, 

Will a smile impart ! 
How a gentle accent 

Calms the troubled soul. 
When the waves of passion 

O'er it wildly roll ! 

You may have around you 

Sunshine if you will, 
Or a host of shadows, 

Gloomy, dreary, chill. 
If you want the sunshine, 

Smile, though sad at heart ; 
To the poor and needy 

Kindly aid impart. 

To the soul-despairing 

Breathe a hopeful word ; 
From your lips be only 

Tones of kindness heard. 
Even give for anger 

Love and tenderness ; 
And in blessing others 

You yourself will bless. 

Little acts of kindness. 

Nothing do they cost ; 
Yet, when they are wanting, 

Life's best charm is lost. 
Little acts of kindness, 

Eichest gems of earth, 
Though they seem but trifles, 

Priceless is their worth. 




SORROW SHARED. 

Every joy must have an end : 
Tears will not a pitcher mend ; 
Yet, while fast they overflow, 
Nelly shares in Johnny's woe. 



TEDDY'S CHOICE. 

I'd like to be a fish, dear mother, 
And go swimming all the time. 

I'd like to be a squirrel, mother, 
The tallest trees to climb. 

I think, though I'm not sure, dear 
mother. 



340 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 











I'd like to be a whale ; 
I shouldn't care to he a peacock ; 
I wouldnH be a snail. 

I know I'd like to be a lion ; 

Just fancy how I'd roar ! 
How nice to be an ant, dear mother, 

And never shut the door. 

I'd like to be a meadow lily, 

To freckle all I please ; 
Among those copy-books and papers, 

What fun to be a breeze ! 
I'd like to be a brook, dear mother, 

A noisy one you know ; 
With rush and leap and splash and 
tumble 

Upon my way I'd go. 



And yet the best and brightest 

Of fun and life and joy, 
I think, if I must choose, dear 
mother, 

I'd like to be a boy. 

Ruth MARiXEn. 



A STORY, 



Little Ann and her mother were walk- 
ing one day 
Through London's wide city so 
.fair. 
And business obliged them to go by 
the way 
That led them through Cavendish 
Square. 



A STORY. 



341 



And as they passed by the great house 
of a lord, 
A beautiful chariot came 
To take some most elegant ladies 
abroad, 
Who straightway got into the same. 

The ladies in feathers and jewels were 
seen, 
The chariot was painted all o'er ; 
The footmen behind were in silver and 
green, 
And fine horses trotted before. 

Little Ann by her mother walked si- 
lent and sad, 
A tear trickled down from her eye ; 
Then her mother said, "Ann, I should 
be very glad 
To know what it is makes you cry." 

"Ah look!" said the child, "at that 

carriage, mamma, 

All covered with varnish and gold • 

Those ladies are riding so charmingly 

there. 

While we have to walk in the cold. 

"You say, *God is kind to the folks 
that are good,' 
But surely it cannot be true ; 
Or else I am certain, almost, that He 
would 
Give such a fine carriage to you," 

"Look there, little girl," said her 
mother, "and see 
What stands at the very coach- door ; 



A poor ragged beggar, and listen how she 
A halfpenny stands to implore. 

"All pale is her face, and deep sunk is 
her eye ; 
Her hands look like skeleton bones ; 
She has got a few rags just about her 
to tie. 
And her naked feet bleed on the 
stones. 

" 'Dear ladies' she cries — and tears 
trickle down — 
'Eelieve a poor beggar, 1 pray ; 
I've wandered all hungry about this 
wide town. 
And not ate a morsel to-day. 

" 'My father and mother are long ago 
dead, 
My brother sails over the sea ; 
And I've not a rag nor a morsel of 
bread, 
As plainly, I'm sure, you may see. 

" 'A fever I caught which was terribly 
bad. 
But no nurse nor physic had I ; 
An old dirty shed was the house that 
I had, 
And only on straw could I lie. 

'' 'And now that I'm better, yet feeble 
and faint, 
A.nd famished, naked, and cold, 
I wander about with my grievous com- 
plaint. 
And seldom p,et aught but a scold. 



342 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



" 'Some will not attend to my pitiful 
call; 
Some think me a vagabond cheat, 
And scarcely a creature believes me, of 
all 
The thousands that traverse the 
street. 

« 'Then ladies, dear ladies, your pity 

bestow !" 

Just then a tall footman came round, 

And, asking the ladies which way they 

would go, 

The chariot turned off with a bound. 

"Ah see, little girl!" then her mother 
replied, 
"How foolish it w^as to complain ! 
If you would have looked at the con- 
trary side. 
Your tears would have dried up 
again. 

"Your house, and your friends, and 

your victuals, and bed, 

'Twas God in His mercy that gave : 

You did not deserve to be covered and 

and fed. 

And yet all these blessings you have. 

"This poor little beggar is hungry and 
cold, 
No father nor mother has she ; 
And while you can daily such objects 
heboid. 
You ought quite contented to be. 
"A coach and a footman, and gaudy 
attire, 



Can't give true delight to the breast; 
To be good is the thing you should 
chiefly desire, 
And then leave to God all the rest." 

Ann Taylor. 



TRUST YOUR MOTHER. 

Trust your mother, little one ! 
In life's morning just begun, 
You will find some grief, some fears, 
Which perhaps may cause you tears ; 
But a mother's kiss can heal 
Many griefs that children feel. 
Trust your mother ; seek to prove 
Grateful for her thoughtful love. 

Trust your mother, noble youth. 
Turn not from the path of truth ; 
In temptation's evil hour. 
Seek her, ere it gains new power. 
She will never guide you wrong ; 
Faith in her will make you strong. 
Trust your mother ; aim to prove 
Worthy of her fondest love. 

Trust your mother, maiden fair ! 
Love will guide your steps with care, 
Let no cloud e'er come between — 
Let no shadow e'er be seen 
Hiding from your mother's heart 
What may prove a poisoned dart. 
Trust your mother ; seek to prove 
Woi-thy of her faithful love. 

Trust your mother to the end. 

She will prove your constant friend ; 



GRAXIjMOTHERS. 



343 




If 'tis pfladness wmgs the hour, 
Share with her the joyful shower ; 
Or if sorrow should oppress, 
She will smile and she will bless. 
Oh ! be trustful, loving, true, 
That she may confide in you. 



GRANDMOTHERS. 

Grandmothers are very nice folks, 
They beat all the aunts in creation ; 

They let a chap do what he likes, 
And don't worry about education. 



344 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



I am sure I can't see it at all, 
What a poor fellow ever could do 

For apples and pennies and cakes, 
Without a grandmother or two. 

And if he is bad now and then, 
And makes a great racketing noise, 

They only look over their 'specs 
And say, "Ah, boys will be boys ! 

"Life is only short at the best ; 

Let the children be happy to-day." 
Then they look for a while at the sk}-. 

And the hills that are far, far away. 

Quite often, as twilight comes on, 
Grandmothers sing hymns very low 

To themselves, as they rock by the fire, 
About heaven, and where they shall 
go. 

And then a boy, stopping to think. 
Will find a hot tear in his eye, 

To know what will come at the last — 
For grandmothers all have to die. 



GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. 



I love, when the evenings are balmy 
and still, 

And summer is smiling on valley and 
hill, 

To see in the garden the little ones 
there. 

All happy and smiling round grand- 
father's chair. 



Such stories he tells them, — such tales 

of delight, — 
Such wonders to dream of by day and 

by niglit, 
It's little they're thinking of sorrow 

and care, 
Their bright faces beaming round 

grandfather's chair. 

And words, too, of wisdom, fall oft 

from his tongue ; 
Dear lessons to cherish and treasure 

while young ; 
Bright things to remember when white 

is their hair. 
And some of them sit in a grandfather's 

chair. 

Ah ! little ones, love him, be kind 
while you may. 

For swiftly the moments are speeding 
away ; 

Not long the kind looks and the love 
you may share. 

That beam on you now from grand- 
father's chair. 

Matthias Baer. 



CRUEL FUN. 



Can any one say what fmi there is 
In the thoughtless use of a gun ? 

Which takes its aim at an innocent 
life] 
And lo ! that life is done. 



HOW WH CAN MAKE 0URSELVP:S FAIR. 



345 



When I was a boy I banged away 
With no thought of the pain I gave — 

At many a deer whose hfe I now 
Would make an eifort to save. 




Oh, boys, be kind to the httle 
birds, 

Nor use your brand-new gun 
To take the hfe of bird or beast, 

Only for cruel "fun." 



HOW WE CAN MAKE OUR- 
SELVES FAIR. 

Here is a question the maidens are 
asking : 
How can we make ourselves fair ? 
One thinks that her cheek"^ are a little 

too red ; 
Another is puzzling her pretty head 
To know how to curl her straight 
hair. 



This lassie's cheeks are a little too pale ; 

How can she make them red ? 
And this httle lady's hands are not 
quite 

As smooth and slender 
and soft and white 
"As a lady's hand 
should be," she said. 
And this one thinks she's 
a trifle too plump ; 
Another one thinks 
she's too small ; 
Her teeth are not quite 
as j)retty as pearls ! 
And what shall we do for 
these poor, poor 
girls 
That cannot be happy 
at all ? 

And I, who look at them, cannot see 

AVhy they are dissatisfied, 
They look like a garden of roses in 

bloom, 
Yet over them all there is resting the 
gloom 
Of some fancied beauty denied. 

The mystical secret is mine to 
impart ; 
Listen, all who covet the power 
Of beauty's magic. The wonderful 

art 
Lies down in the depths of a gentle 
heart 
And shines from the eyes every hour. 



346 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



The hands that do charity's gentle 
deeds, 
Are white as the angels above ; 
And whether the cheeks be rosy or 

fair, 
If innocent blushes and health be 
there, 
They are pretty enough to love. 

If over the beautiful hps, dear girls. 

But gentle words are said ; 
And whether the form be plump or 

slight, 
If only your heart be pure and 
bright. 
You are i)retty enough to wed. 

Abbk Kinnik. 



GOOD FOR EVIL. 



"Mother, mother! Oh! Oh! Oh! 
Here's a great dog barking so ! 

Come, come quickly ; don't you see 
We're as frightened as can be ! 

Now he's growling — snapping too ! 
Mother dear, oh, where are you ? 

We're alone, and he can swim ! 
Come let's join and sing to him. 

It may calm him — touch his heart. 
Now begin, each do her part. 

Why ! He smiles ! He's gentle now ! 
Form in line and make a bow. 



Now this dog and little we 

Are firm friends because you see, 

When he growled we growled not back, 
But sang sweetly quack-quack-quack. 

Learn from this, our simple tale, 
Gentle actions never fail 

To bring smiles to any face 

On which frowns have held a place. 

We small ducks have found this true, 
Little readers, so will you. 



JEANNETTE AND JO. 

Two girls I know — .Jeannette and Jo, 
And one is always moping ; 

The other lassie, come what may. 
Is ever bravely hoping. 

Beauty of face and girlish grace 
Are theirs, for joy or sorrow ; 

Jeannette takes brightly every day, 
And Jo dreads each to-morrow. 

One early morn they watched the 
dawn — 
I saw them stand together ; 
Their whole day's sport, 'twas very 
plain, 
Depended on the weather. 

"'Twill storm !" cried Jo. Jeannette 
spoke low, 
"Yes, but 'twill soon be over." 



A STORY FOR A CHILD. 



347 



And, as she spoke, the sudden shower 
Came beating down the clover. 

"I tokl you so !" cried angry Jo ; 

"It always is a-raining ! " 
Then hid her face in dire despair, 

Lamenting and complaining. 

But sweet Jeannette, quite hopeful 
yet — 
I tell it to her honor — 




And douljt and dread, dear girls, be- 
lieve, 
Of all things are the saddest. 

In morning's light- let youth be bright, 
Take in the sunshine tender; 

Then, at the close, shall life's decline 
Be full of sunset splendor. 

And ye who fret, try, like Jeannette, 
To shun all weak complaining ; 

And not, like Jo, cry out too soon, 
"It always is a-raining !" 

Makv Mapes Dodge. 



Looked up and waited till the sun 
Came streaming in upon her. 

The broken clouds sailed off in crowds 

Across a sea of glory. 
Jeannette and Jo ran, laughing, in — 

Which ends my simple story. 

Joy is divine. Come storm, come 
shine, 
The hopeful are the gladdest ; 



A STORY FOR A CHILD. 

Little one, come to my knee ; 

Hark, how the rain is pouring 
Over the roof, in the pitch-black night. 

And the winds in the woods a-roar- 
ing. 

Hush, my darling, and listen. 

Then pay for the story with kisses: 

Father was lost in the pitch-black 
night. 
In just such a storm as this is. 

High up on the lonely mountains, 
Where the wild men w'atched and 
waited ; 
Wolves in the forest, and bears in the 
bush. 
And I on my path belated, 



348 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



The rain and the night together 

Came down, and the wind came 
after, 

Bending the props of the pine-tree roof 
And snapping many a rafter. 

I crept along in the darkness. 

Stunned, andhruised, andhhnded — 

Crept to a fir with thick-set boughs, 
And a sheltering rock behind it. 

There from the blowing and raining 
Crouching, I sought to hide me ; 

Something rustled, two green eyes 
shone, 
And a wolf lay down beside me. 

Little one, be not frightened ; 

I and the wolf together, • 
Side by side, through the long, long 
night. 

Hid from the awful weather. 

His wet fur pressed against me ; 

Each of us warmed the other ; 
Each of us felt, in the stormy dark, 

That beast and man were brother. 

And when the falling forest 
No longer crashed in warning. 

Each of us went from our hiding-place 
Forth in the wild, wet morning. 

Darling, kiss me payment ! 

Hark, how the wind is roaring ! 
Father's house is a better place 

When the stormy rain is pouring. 

Bayakd Tatlok. 



THE DARLING LITTLE GIRL 

Who's the darling little girl 
Everybody loves to see ? 

She it is whose sunny face 

Is as sweet as sweet can be. 




Who's the darling little girl 
Everybody loves to hear ? 

She it is whose pleasant voice 
Falls like music on the ear. 

Who's the darling little girl 
Everybody loves to know ? 

She it is whose acts and thoughts 
All are pure as whitest snow. 



THE BEGGAR BOY. 

A poor boy went by with his raiment 
all torn ; 

He looked, too, so dirty and very for- 
lorn ; 



THE BEGGAR GIRL. 



349 



His coat was in tatters, no slioes on 

his feet, 
And they ached with the cold on the 

stones of the street. 

Poor boy ! no kind father or mother 

has he, 
Nor has he a nice house at home as 

have we; 



Oh, how good and how thankful I then 

ought to be 
To the God who has given these good 

things to me ! 




He begs all the day for a morsel of 
bread, 

'And perhaps sleeps at night in a com- 
fortless shed. 

He has no kind friends to instruct him 

and guide, 
And he hears what is sinful, and sees 

it beside ; 



THE BEGGAR GIRL. 

There's a poor beggar going by ; 

I see her looking in ; 
She's just about as big as I, 

Only so very thin. 

She has no shoes upon her feet, 

She is so very poor; 
And hardly anything to eat ; 

I pity her, I'm sure. 

But I have got nice clothes, you know. 
And meat and bread and fire ; 

And dear mamma, that loves me so, 
And all that I desire. 

If I was forced to stroll so far. 
Oh dear ! what should I do ? 

I wish she had a kind mamma, 
Just such a one as you. 

Here, little girl, come back again. 
And hold that ragged hat. 

And I will put a penny in ; 

There ! bu}- some bread with that. 



THE CHILD-JUDGE. 

Where hast thou been toiling all day, 
sweetheart. 
That tliv brow is burdened and sad ? 



3 50 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



The Master's work may make weaiy 
feet, 
But it leaves the spirit glad. 

"Was thy garden nipped with the 
midnight frost, 
Or scorched with the midday glare ? 
Were thy vines laid low, or thy lilies 
crushed. 
That thy face is so full of care ?" 

"No pleasant garden- toils were mine ! 

I have sat on the judgment-seat. 
Where the Master sits at eve and calls' 

The children around his feet." 

"How camest thou on the judgment- 
seat, 

Sweetheart ? who set thee there '? 
'Tis a lonely and lofty seat for thee, 

And well might fill thee with care." 

"I climbed on the judgment- seat my- 
self, 
I have sat there alone all day ; 
For it grieved me to see the children 
around 
Idling their life away. 

"They wasted the Master's precious 
seed ; 
They wasted the precious hours ; 
They trained not the vines, nor gath- 
ered the fruits. 
And they trampled the sweet, meek 
flowers." 



"And what hast thou done on the 

judgment-seat, 

Sweetheart? what didst thou there'? 

Would the idlers heed thy childish 

voice '? 

Did the garden mend for thy care ? 

"Nay, that grieved me more ! I called 
and I cried. 
But they left me there forlorn, 
My voice was Aveak, and they heeded 
not, 
Or theylaughedmy words to scorn." 

"Ah, the judgment-seat was not for 
thee, 
The servants were not thine ! 
And the eyes which adjudge the 
praise and the blame 
See further than thine or mine. 

"The voice that shall sound at eve, 
sweetheart. 
Will not raise its tones to be heard : 
It will hush the earth and hush the 
hearts. 
And none will resist its word." 

"Should I see the Master's treasures 
lost. 
The stores that should feed his poor. 
And not lift my voice, be it weak as it 
may, 
And not be grieved sore ?" 

"Wait till the evening falls, sweet- 
heart, — 



THE CHILD-JUDGE. 



351 



Wait till the evening falls ; 
The Master is near and knoweth all, 
Wait till the Master calls. 



My vines are trailing, my roses are 
parched. 
My lilies droop and fall." 



"But how fared thy garden-plot, "Go back to thy garden-plot, sweet- 



sweet-heart. 



heart, 



Whilst thou sat'st on the judgment- , Go back till the evening falls ! 
seat ? And bind thy lilies, and train thy vines, 

Till for thee the Master calls. 

"Go make thy garden fair 
as thou canst, 
Xiiou w^orkest never alone : 
Perchance he whose plot is 
next to thine 
Will see it, and mend his 
own. 

"And the next may copy his, 
sweet-heart, 
Till all grows fair and 
sweet ; 
And when the Master comes 
at eve, 
Happy faces his coming will 
greet. 

"Then shall thy joy be full, 
sweet-heart. 
In the garden so fair to see, 
In the Master's words of praise 
for all. 
Who watered thy roses, and trained ^'^ "^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^''^ own for thee." 

thy vines, 
And kept them from careless feet ?" 




"Nay that is the saddest of all to me ! 
That is the saddest of all ! 



KEYS. 

Hearts, like doors, will ope with ease, 
To very, very little keys. 



352 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



WHICH IS YOUR LOT. 



Some children roam the fields and hills, 

And others work in noisy mills ; 

Some dress in silks, and dance and 

play, 
While others drudge their lives away ; 

Some glow with health and bound 

with song. 

And some must suffer all day long. 



When hark ! a gentle hand they hear 
Low tapping at the bolted door ; 

And thus, to gain their willing ear, 
A feeble voice was heard t'implore : 

"Cold blows the blast across the moor ; 
The sleet drives hissing in the wind ; 
Yon toilsome mountain lies before, 




Which is your lot, my girl and boy ? 

Is it a life of ease and joy ? 

Ah, if it is, its glowing sun 

The poorer life should shine upon. 

Make glad one little heart to-day. 

And help one burdened child to play. 



THE BEGGAR MAN. 

Around the fire, one wintry night, 
The farmer's rosy children sat ; 

The fagot lent its blazing light, 
And jokes went round and careless 
chat. 




"My eyes are weak and dim with age ; 

No road, no path, can I descry ; 
And these poor rags ill stand the rage . 

Of such a keen, inclement sky. 

"So faint I am, these tottering feet 
No more my feeble frame can bear ; 



THE COMPLAINTS OP THE POOR. 



353 



My sinking heart forgets to beat, 
And drifting snows my tomb pre- 
pare. 

"Open your hospitable door, 

And shield me from the biting 
blast ; 
Cold, cold it blows across the moor, 

The weary moor that I have passed." 

With hasty steps the farmer ran. 
And close beside the fire they place 

The poor, half-frozen beggar man, 
With shaking limbs and pallid face. 

The little children flocking came. 
And warmed his stiff 'ning hand in 
theirs ; 

And busily the good old dame 
A comfortable mess prepares. 

Their kindness cheered his drooping 

soul, 

And slowly down his wrinkled cheek 

The big round tears were seen to roll, 

And told the thanks he could not 

speak. 

The children, too, began to sigh, 

And all their merry chat was o'er. 
And yet they felt, they knew not why. 
More glad than they had done be- 
fore. 

Lucy Aiken. 

THE COMPLAINTS OF THE POOR. 

"And wherefore do the poor com- 
plain?" 



The rich man asked of me ; 
"Come walk abroad with me," I said, 
"x\nd I will answer thee." 

'Twas evening, and the frozen streets 

Were cheerless to behold ; 
And we were wrapped and coated well, 

And yet we were a-cold. 

Wc met an old, bareheaded man. 
His locks were thin and white ; 

I asked him what he did abroad 
In that cold winter's night. 

The cold was keen indeed, he said — 
But at home no fire had he ; 

And therefore he had come abroad 
To ask for charity. 

We met a young bare-footed child 
And she begged loud and bold ; 

I asked her what she did abroad 
When the wind it blew so cold. 

She said her father was at home, 

And he laj'' sick abed ; 
And therefore was it she was sent 

Abroad to beg for bread. 

We saw a woman sitting down 

Upon a stone to rest ; 
She had a baby at her back, 

And another at her breast. 

I asked her why she loitered there. 
When the night-wind was so chill : 

She turned her head, and bade the child 
That screamed behind, be still — 



354 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



Then told iis that her husband served 

A soldier, far away ; 
And therefore to her parish she 

Was begging back her way. 

We met a girl — her dress was loose, 
And sunken was her eye — 

Who with a wanton's hollow voice 
Addressed the passers-by. 

I asked her what there was in guilt 
That could her heart allure 

To shame, disease, and late remorse ; 
She answered she was poor. 

I turned me to the rich man then, 

For silently stood he : 
"You asked me why the poor complain ; 

And these have answered thee !" 

ROBEKT SOUTHEY. 



A BRIGHT NEW CENT. 

It is a bright and shining thing, 
That some good things 'twill buy ; 

I'll therefore not despise the coin. 
This birthday gift — not I. 

'T would buy a pen, wherewith to write 

A volume for the press ; 
'Twould buy a tract, with truth enough 

Some erring soul to bless, 

'Twould buy a pencil, to work out 
Great problems on the slate ; 

'Twould buy an egg, wherewith a boy 
Might make a fortune great. 

'Twould buy a nail to stop a leak 
And save a sinking boat ; 



'Twould buy a stick, by grasping which 
Some drowning boy might float, 

'Twould buy a piece of wholesome l)read 
Some starving child to bless ; 

'Twould buy a pin, wherewith to save 
Some article of dress. 

'Twould buy, 'twould buy, I cannot say 
How many things 'twould buy ; 

I'll therefore not despise the gift 
Of a bright new cent — not I. 



POOR LITTLE JIM. 

The cottage was a thatched one, the 
outside old and mean. 

But all within that little cot was won- 
drous neat and clean ; 

The night was dark and stormy, the 
wind was howling wild. 

As a patient mother sat beside the 
death-bed of her child, 

A little worn-out creature, his once 
bright ej'es grow dim. 

It was a collier's wife and child ; the}' 
called him little Jim ; 

And oh, to see the briny tears fast hur- 
rying down her cheek. 

As she offered up the prayer in thought 
she was afraid to speak. 

Lest she might waken one she loved 
far better than her life. 

For she had all a mother's heart, had 
that poor collier's wife. 

With hands uplifted, see, she kneels 
beside the sufferer's bed. 



POOR LITTLE JIM. 



^ C r- 




'O'tfOftfr 



J.tat>^l 



And prays that He would spare her 

boy, and take herself instead. 
She gets her answer from her child ; 

soft fall the words from him : 
"Mother, the angels do so smile, and 

beckon little Jim. 
I have no pain, dear mother, now, but 

oh, I am so dry ! 
Just moisten poor Jim's lips again, 

and, mother, don't you cry." 
With gentle, trembling haste she held 

the liquid to his lip ; 
He smiled to thank her as he took 

each little, tiny sip. 
"Tell father, when he comes from 

work, I said good-night to him ; 
And mother, now I'll go to sleep." 

Alas ! poor little Jim ! 
She knew that he was dying — that the 

child she loved so dear. 
Had uttered the last words she might 

ever hope to hear. 



The cottage-door is opened, the collier's 

step is heard, 
The father and the mother meet, yet 

neither speaks a word. 
He felt that all was over, he knew his 

child was dead ; 
He took the candle in his hand and 

walked toward the bed ; 
His quivering lips gave token of the 

the grief he'd fain conceal. 
And see, his wife has joined him — the 

stricken couple kneel ; 
With hearts bowed down by sadness 

they humbly ask of Him 
In heaven once more to meet again 

their ovm poor little Jim. 



THE ORPHAN GIRL. 



world, how sad and lonely thou ! 
How cold and dim thou shin'st, sun ! 



15^ 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 




^.a*- 



^ 



7 




THE ORPHAN GIRL. 

Tlu! leaves of hope are dead and gone ; 
No peace, even when in prayer I 
how. 

My father and my mother he 
In the still churchyard's holy soil ; 
Their child must turn to weary toil, 

Whose heart was glad when they 
were by. 

No friend is near my hand to take 
My dark and troubled soul to raise ; 
Only the distance meets my gaze. 

And the low clouds above the lake. 

God ! be gracious to thy child, 
Let the soft beams of hope appear. 
And in the zephyr let me hear 

The evening bells so clear and mild. 



THE ORPHAN BOY. 

Stay, lady, stay, for mercy's 
sake, 
And hear a helpless 
orphan's tale ; 
Ah, sure my looks must 
pity wake — 
'Tis want that makes my 
cheek so pale ; 
Yet I was once a mother's 
pride, 
And my brave father's 
hope and joy; 
But in the Nile's proud 
fight he died, 
And I am now an orphan 
boy! 

Poor, foolish child ! how 
pleased was I, 
When news of Nelson's victory 
came, 
Along the crowded streets to fly, 

To see the lighted windows flame ! 

To force me home my mother sought — 

She could not bear to hear my 

joy, 

For with my father's life 'twas bought — 

And made me a poor orphan boy ! 

The people's shouts were long and loud ; 

My mother, shuddering, closed her 

ears ; 

''Rejoice! Eejoice ! " still cried the 

crowd, — 

Mymother answered with her tears. 



THE BLIND BOY. 



357 



"Oh, why do tears steal down your 
cheek," 
Cried I, " while others shout for 
joy?" 
She kissed me, and in accents weak 
She called me her poor orphan boy ! 

'= What is an orj^han boy?" I said; 
When suddenly she gasped for 
breath, 
x\nd her eyes closed ! I shrieked for 
aid, 
But ah ! her eyes were closed in 
death. 
My hardships since I will not tell ; 

But now, no more a parent's joy. 
Ah, lady, I have learned too well 
Wliat 'tis to be an orphan boy I 

Oh, were I l)y your bounty fed ! — 

Nay, gentle lady, do not chide ; 
Trust me, I mean to earn my bread ; 

The sailor's orphan boy has pride. 
Lady, you weep ; what is't you say ? 

You'll give me clothing, food, em- 
ploy? 
Look down, dear parents ! look and 
see 

Your happy, happy orphan boy ! 

Amei-ia Opie. 



THE BLIND BOY. 

It was a blessed summer day. 

The flowers bloomed — the air was 
mild, 



The little birds poured forth their lay, 
And everything in nature smiled. 

In pleasant thought I wandered on 
Beneath the deep wood's ample 
shade, 
Till suddenly I came upon 

Two children who had thither 
strayed. 

Just at an aged birch tree's foot 
A little boy and girl reclined ; 

His hand in hers she kindl}^ put. 
And then I saw the boy was l)lind. 

The children knew not I was near — 
A tree concealed me from their 
view — 

But all they said I well could hear, 
And I could see all they might do. 

"Dear Mary," said the poor blind 
boy, 

" That little bird sings very long; 
" Say, do you see him in his jo}'? 

And is he pretty as his song ? " 

' Yes, Edward, yes," replied the maid, 
" I see the bird on yonder tree." 

The poor boy sighed, and gently said, 
" Sister, I wish that I could see ! 

" The flowers, you say, are very fair. 
And bright green leaves are on the 
trees, 

And pretty birds are singing there — 
How beautiful for one wlio sees ! 



358 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



"Yet I the fragrant flower can smell, 
And I can feel the green leaf's 
shade, 
And I can hear the notes that swell 
From those dear birds that God has 
made. 

" So, sister, God to me is kind. 

Though sight, alas ! He has not 
given ; 

But tell me, are there any blind 
Among the children up in heaven ?" 

"No, dearest Edward; there all see; 

But why ask me a thing so odd?" 
"Oh, Mary, He^s so (jood to me, 

I tJioiifjht I'd like to look at God." 

Ere long disease his hand had laid 
On that dear boy, so meek and mild ; 

His widowed mother wept and prayed 
That God would spare her sightless 
child. 

He felt her warm tears on his face. 
And said, " Oh never weep for me ; 

I'm going to a bright, bright place. 
Where Mary says I God shall see. 

"And you'll be there, dear Mary, too ; 

But, mother, when you get up there. 
Tell Edward, mother, that 'tis you — 

You know I never saw you here." 

He spoke no more, but sweetly smiled 
Until the final blow was given. 



When God took up the poor blind 
child. 
And opened first his eyes in heaven. 

Eev. Db. Hawks. 



THE BLIND BOY. 

Oh, tell me of the soft summer air, 
That tosses so gently the curls of my 

hair ; 
It breathes on my lips and it fans my 

warm cheek. 
But gives me no answer, though often 

I speak. 
I feel it play o'er me refreshing and 

light. 
And yet cannot touch it, because I've 

no sight. 

And music, what is it? and where 

does it dwell ? 
I sink and I mount with its cadence 

and swell. 
While thrilled to my heart with the 

deep-going strain. 
Till pleasure excessive seems turning 

to pain. 

Now, what the bright colors of music 

may be 
Will any one tell me, for I cannot see ? 

The odors of flowers that are hovering 

nigh. 
What are they ? on what kind of wings 

do they fly ? 



THE SAILOR BOY AND HIS MOTHER. 



359 



Are these shining angels, who come to 

dehght 
A poor Httle child that knows nothing 

of sight? 
The face of the sun never comes to 

my mind — 

Oh, tell me what light is, because I 

am blind. 

Hannah F, Gould. 



THE SAILOR BOY AND HIS 
MOTHER. 

Hark to the thunder ! 

List to the rain ! 
See the fierce lightning 

Flashing again ! 

See, at j'on window. 

Gleaming afar, 
Shines a pale taper. 

Like a lone star ! 

There a lone mother, 

Bending the knee. 
Prays for her darling. 

Far, far at sea. 

God in heaven. 

Hear Thoii her prayer ! 
Still Thou the tempest. 

Calm her despair ! 

Out on the waters, 
Where the winds roar. 

Tossed by the billows, 
Miles from the shore. 



In his rude hammock. 
Rocked by the deep, 

Lies a young sailor 
Buried in sleep. 

Sweetly he's smiling. 
Dreaming of home. 

Far in green England, 
Over the foam. 

She who is praying 
Stands by him now, 

Parting his tresses. 
Kissing his brow. 

God send him safely 

To her again ! 
God grant her watching 

Be not in vain ! 



OVER THE HILL 

Traveler, what lies over the hill '? 

Traveler, tell to me : 
I am only a child — from the window- 
sill 

Over I cannot see." 

" Child, there's a valley over there. 
Pretty and wooded and shy , 

And a little brook that says, ' Take 
care. 
Or I'll drown you by and by.' " 



" And what comes next ?' 
town. 



"A little 



36o 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



And a towering hill again ; 
Those hills and valleys, up and down, 
And a river now and then." 

" And what comes next ? " '-'A lonely 
moor 

Without a heaten way ; 
And gray clouds sailing slow hefore 

A wind that will not stay." 

"And then?" "Dark rocks and yel- 
low sand, 
And a moaning sea beside." 
"And then?" "More sea, more sea, 
more land, 
And rivers deep and wide." 

"And then?" "0, rock and moun- 
tain and vale. 

Rivers and fields and men, 
Over and over — a weary tale — 

And round to your home again," 

"And that is all? Have you told the 
best?" 

" No, neither the best nor the eiul. 
On summer eves, away in the west. 

You will see a stair ascend. 

" Built of all colors of lovely stones, — 

A stair up into the sky. 
Where no one is weary, and no one 
morose, 

Or wants to be laid by." 

" I will go." " But the steps are very 
steep ; 



if you would climb up there. 
You must lie at the foot, as still as 
sleep, 
A very step of the stair." 

— Geoege MacDonald. 



PRETTY IS THAT PRETTY DOES. 



The spider wears a plain brown dress, 

And she is a steady spinner;' 
To see her, quiet as a mouse. 
Going about her silver house. 
You would never, never, never guess 
The way she gets her dinner. 

She looks as if no thought of ill 

In all her life had stirred her ; 
But while she moves with careful 

tread, 
And while she spins her silken thread. 
She is planning, planning, planning 
stih 
The way to do some murder ! 

My child, who reads this simple lay 
With eyes down-dropt and tender. 
Remember, the old proverbs say 
That pretty is that pretty does, 
And that worth does not go nor stay 
For poverty or splendor. 

'Tis not the house, and not the dress, 

That makes the saint or sinner ; 
To see the spider sit and spin, 
Shut with her w^ebs of silver in, 
You would never, never, never guess 
The way she gets her dinner. 



DEAR OLD DAYS. 



361 



THE DEAR OLD DAYS. 

I remember, I remember 

The dear old smmy days, 
Wbeu beside the bright old fomitain 



I remember, I remember 

The games we used to 
plan : 

How Jenny played the fairy, 
And Tom the blind old man. 




We had our merry plays ; 
Around it grew the bushes. 

While the water pure and white 
Streamed down to till our pitchers, 

It was a pleasant sight ! 



And once a giant took us, 
And dragged us to his den ; 

But while the rogue was sleep- 
ing, 
Wc all ran home a^ijain. 



362 



lp:ssons of life. 



I remember, I remember 

How we'd play at keeping shop ; 
And one would come to buy a 
doll, 

And one to buy a top. 
What piles of money we took 
in ! • 

Ah ! shall we ever be 
As rich again as we were then 

Beneath that old oak tree ! 

I remember, I remember 

The fields of new-mown hay, 
The strawberries we used to pick 

In childhood's jocund day; - 
Ah ! will there come another time 

As blithesome and as bright? 
Yes ! Youth and all its joy, be 
sure. 

Shall never perish quite. 

— Emily Carter. 



WHAT MAKES ME HAPPIEST. 



What is it makes me happiest ? 

Is it my last new play ? 
Is it pussy, ball, or hoop '? 

Can you, dear mamma, say ? 

Is it my puzzles or my blocks, 

My pleasant solitaire. 
My dolls, my kittens, or my books. 

Or flowers fresh and fair ? 

What it is makes me happiest ? 
It is not one o^ these. 



Yet they are pretty things I love, 
And never fail to please. 

Oh, it is looks and tones of love. 
From those I love the best, 

That follow me when I do right — 
These makes me hapi^iest. 



MOTHER KNOWS. 



Nobody knows of the work it makes 
To keep the home together ; 

Nobody knows of the steps it takes, 
Nobody knows — but mother. 

Nobody listens to childish woes 
Which kisses only smother ; 

Nobody's pained by naughty blows. 
Nobody — only mother. 

Nobody knows of the sleepless 
care 

Bestowed on baby brother ; 
Nobody knows of the tender pray'r. 

Nobody — only mother. 

Nobody knows of the lessons taught 

Of loving one another ; 
Nobody knows of the patience sought. 

Nobody — only mother. 

Nobody knows of the anxious fears 
Lest darlings may not weather 

The storm of life in after j^ears : 
Nobody knows — but mother. 

H. C. Dodge. 



THE MUSIC LESSON. 



36; 



THE MUSIC LESSON. 

Touch the keys lightly, 

Nellie, my dear : 
The noise makes Johnnie 

ImjDatient, I fear. 

He looks very cross, 
I am sorry to see — 



BE KIND. 




Not looking at all 

As a brother should be. 

Whatever you're doing, 
Bear this always in mind: 

In all little thinf/s 

Be both thoughtful and kiud. 



Be kind to thy father, for when thou 
wast young, 
Who loved thee as fondly as he '? 
He caught the first accents that fell 
from thy tongue. 
And joined in thine innocent glee. 
Be kind to thy father, for now he is old, 
His locks intermingled with gray. 
His footsteps are feeble, 
once fearless and bold ; 
Thy father is passing 
away. 

Be kind to thy mother, for 
lo ! on her brow 
May traces of sorrow be 
seen : 
Oh, well may'st thou cherish 
and comfort her now. 
For loving and kind hath 
she been. 
Eemember thy mother, for 
thee will she pray 
As long as God giveth her 
breath ; 
With accents of kindness 
then cheer her lone 
way. 
E'en to the dark valley of death. 

Be kind to thy brother, his heart will 
have dearth. 
If the smile of thy love be withdrawn ; 
The flowers of feehng will fade at their 
birth. 



3 '^4 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



If the dew of affection be gone. 
Be kind to your brother, wherever you 
are, 
The love of a brother shall be 
An ornament, purer and richer by far, 
Than pearls from the depths of the 
sea. 

Be kind to thy sister, not many may 
know 
The depth of true sisterly love ; 
The wealth of the ocean lies fathoms 
below 
The surface that sparkles above. 
Thy kindness shall Ining to thee many 
sweet hours. 
And blessings thy pathway to crown. 
Affection shall weave thee a garland 
of flowers. 
More precious than wealth or re- 
nown. 



LITTLE THINGS. 



Little drops of water. 
Little grains of sand. 

Make the mighty ocean. 
And the pleasant land. 

Thus the little minutes. 
Humble though they be, 

Make the mighty ages 
Of eternity. 

Thus our little errors 
Lead the soul awav 



From the path of virtue. 
Off in sin to stray. 

Little deeds of kindness, 
Little words of love, 

Make our earth an Eden, 
Like the heaven above. 



I MEANT TO. 

"I did not rise at the breakfast bell, 
But why so sleepy — I can't tell — 

I meant to. 

"The wood's not carried in, I know; 
But there's the school-bell, I must go. 

I meant to. 

"My lesson I forgot to write, 
But nuts and apples were so nice. 
I meant to. 

"I forgot to walk on tiptoe. 

Oh, how the baby cries. Oh ! Oh ! 

I meant to. 

"There, I forgot to shut the gate. 
And put away my book and slate. 
I meant to. 

"The cattle trampled down the corn. 
My slate is broken, book is torn, 

I meant to." 

Thus drawls poor idle .Jimmy White, 

From morn till noon, from noon till 

nght. 

"I meant to.'' 



LITTLE MARIAN'S PILGRIMAGE. 



36: 



And when he grows to be a man 
He'll heedlessly mar every plan 
With that poor plea, 

"I meant to." 



LITTLE MARIAN'S PILGRIMAGE. 



In a large house, with two kind aunts. 

The httle Marian dwelt, 
And a happy child she was, I ween, 

For though at times she felt 

That playmates would be better far 
Than either birds or flowers. 

Yet with kind aunts and story-books 
She passed few lonely hours. 

Her favorite haunt in summer time 
Was a large old apple tree, 

And oft amid its boughs she sat, 
With her pet book on her knee. 

The "Prilgrim's Progress" it was called, 
And Marian loved it much ; 

It is indeed a wondrous book : 
There are not many such. 

She read it in her little bed. 

And by the winter fire, 
And in the large old apple tree. 

As if she ne'er would tire. 

But, unexplained, 'tis just the book 

To puzzle a young brain. 
And this poor child had no kind friend 

Its meaning to explain. 



For though her aunts were very kind. 

They were not very wise ; 
They only said, "Don't read so, child, 

For sure you'll hurt your eyes." 

But Marian still went reading on ; 

And visions strange and wild 
Began to fill the little head 

Of the lonely, dreaming child. 

For she thought that Christian and his 
wife. 

And all his children too. 
Had left behind their pleasant home ; 

x\nd so she too must do. 

"I'll take my Bible," said the child, 
"And seek the road to heaven ; 

I'll try to find the wicket-gate, 
And have my sins forgiven. 

"I wish my aunts would go with me, 

But 'tis in vain to ask ; 
They are so old and deaf and lame. 

They'd think it quite a task. 

"No, I must go alone, I see ; 

And I'll not let them know. 
Or, like poor Christian's friends, they'll 
say, 

'My dear, you must not go.' 

"But I must wait till some great thing 
Shall all their thoughts engage. 

And then I'll leave my pleasant home, 
And go on pilgrimage." 



366 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



She had not waited long before, 

One fine, autumnal day, 
She saw the large old coach arrive 

To take her aunts away. 

"We're going out to spend the day," 

The two old ladies said ; 
"We mean to visit Mrs. Blair : 

She's very sick in bed. 

"But, Marian, you must stay at home, 

And happy you will l)e. 
To have your book and dinner too 

In the large old apple tree. 

"And in the garden you may play 
While you can be content." 

A few more parting words were said. 
And off the aunties went. 

The servants, too, were now engaged. 

"The day is come at last," 
Said Marian ; "but oh ! how I wish 

My pilgrimage were past !" 

Kneeling beneath her apple tree, 
For God's kind help she prayed; 

Then, with her basket in her hand, 
Went forth the little maid. 

Behind the house where Marian dwelt. 
At a long, long distance, lay 

A high, steep hill, which morning suns 
Tinged with their earliest ray. 

That "Difficulty" was its name 
The child had often thought. 



And toward that hill she turned her 
head. 
With hopeful visions fraught. 

All nature seemed to welcome her 
In that bright autumnal morn ; 

The joyous lark sang merrily 
Above the waving corn. 

Ah! little lark, you sing," she said, 
"On your early pilgrimage ; 

I too will sing, for pleasant thoughts 
Shall now my mind engage." 

In sweet, clear strains she sang a 
hymn. 

Then tripped along her way. 
Till to a miry pool she came 

Through which her pathway lay. 

"This is the 'Slough Despond," she 
cried ; 

And, bravely venturing through. 
She safely reached the other side. 

Leaving behind a shoe. 

On a moss-clad stone she sat her down. 
And ate some fruit and bread ; 

Then took her little Bible out, 
And a cheering Psalm she read. 

Now with fresh hope she wandered on 

For many miles away, 
And reached the bottom of a hill 

Before the close of day. 

She clambered up the steep ascent. 
Though faint and weary too, 



LITTLE MARIAN'S PILGRIMAGE. 



367 



But firmly did our Marian keep 
Her purpose still in view. 

"I'm glad to find the Arbor's gone," 

Said the little tired soul ; 
"I'm sure I should have laid me down, 

And maybe, lost my roll." 

On the high hill-top she stands at last, 
And our weary pilgrim sees 

A porter's lodge of ample size, 
Half hid by sheltering trees. 

She clapped her hands with joy, and 
cried, 

"Oh ! there's the 'Wicket-Gate !' 
And I must seek admittance now. 

Before it is too late." 

Gently she knocks, 'tis answered soon, 

And at the open door 
Stands a tall man. Poor Marian felt 

As she never felt before. 

With tearful eyes and trembling heart. 
Flushed cheek and anxious brow, 

She said, "I hopeyour'e Watchful, sir; 
I want Discretion now." 

"Oh yes, I'm watchful," said the man, 

"As a porter ought to be ; 
I fear you've lost your way, young 
miss ; 

You've lost your shoe, I see." 

"Mistress," cried he to his wife within, 
"Here's a queer child at our door ; 



You'll never see the like again. 
If you live to be fourscore. 

"She wants discretion, as she says ; 

And indeed I think 'tis so, 
Though I know of some who want it 
more, 

And seek it less, I trow." 

"Go to the Hall," his wife replied, 
"And take the child with you ; 

The ladies there are all so wise. 
They'll soon know what to do." 

The man complied, and led the child 
Through many a flowery glade, 

"Is this the Palace Beantifnl-" 
The little w^anderer said. 

"There, to the left, among the trees'? 

Why, miss, 'tis very grand ; 
Call it a palace, if you please ; 

'Tis the finest in the land. 

"But here we are at the grand old 
porch 

And the famous marble hall ; 
Here, little lady, you must wait. 

While I the servants call." 

With heavy heart he left the child, 

But quickly reappeared. 
And with him came a lady too. 

And Marian's heart was cheered. 

"My little girl," the lady said, 
In accents soft and kind. 



368 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



"I'm sure you need your limbs to rest, 
And rest you soon shall. find." 

To a room where three young ladies sat 
The child was quickly led ; 

''Piety, Prudence, Charity," 
To herself she softly said. 

"What is your name, my little dear*?" 
Said the eldest of the three. 

Whom Marian, in her secret thought, 
Had marked for Piety. 

"We'll send a servant to your friends, 
And tell them you are here ; 

Your absence from your happy home 
Will fill their hearts with fear." 

Around her bright and lovely face 
Fell waves of auburn hair, 

And modestly she told her name. 
With whom she lived, and where. 

"How did you lose your way, my love "?" 
She gently raised her head, 

"I do not think I've lost my way," 
The little Pilgrim said. 

"This is the Palace Beautiful ; 

May I stay here to-night ?" 
They smiled and said, "We're glad 
our home 

Is pleasant in your sight. 

"Yes, gladly we will lodge you here, 
For many nights to come." 

"Thank you, "she said, "but I must soon 
Go toward my heavenly home. 



"The Valley of the Shade of Death 
Is near your house, I know." 

Surprised, she saw her artless words 
Had caused their tears to flow. 

She knew not that her new-found 
friends 

A little while before 
Had buried one they dearly loved. 

But could love, on earth, no more. 

Their brother had been called away 
In the unseen world to dwell, 

But why her words should grief 
excite 
Poor Marian could not tell. 

Sobs only for a while were heard ; 

At length the mother said, 
"My child, your words reminded us 

Of our loved and early dead. 

"But this you could not know, my 
dear ; 

And it indeed is true — 
We all are near to death's dark door — 

Even little girls like you." 

"Yes," said the timid, trembling cb'ld, 

"I know it must be so; 
But, ma'am, I hope that Piety 

May be with me when I go. 

"And I will see your Armory, 
When you have time to spare ; 

I hope you have some small enough 
For a little girl to wear." 



LITTLE MARIAN'S PILGRIMAGE. 



369 



No more she said, for Piety 
(As Marian called her) threw 

Her arms aromid the Pilgrim's neck, 
Whose secret now she knew. 

"Your words and waj's were strange," 
said she, 
"But now 'tis plain 3-ou've read 
That wondrous book, which, unex- 
plained, 
Has turned your little head. 

"How dearl}', when a little child, 
I loved that Pilgrim's tale ! 

But then 'twas all explained to me ; 
And if we can prevail. 

"On your kind aunts to let j^ou stay 
Some time with us, my dear, 

We'll talk about that precious book. 
And try to make it clear." 



And now we'll turn to Marian's home. 
And see what's passing there. 

The servants all had company, 
And a merry group there were. 

They had not miss'd our Pilgrim long. 
For they knew she oft would play 

In that old garden with a book 
The livelong summer day. 

At last said one, with wondering eyes, 
"Where can Miss Marian be? 

Dinner was in her basket packed. 
But sure she'll come to tea." 



They sought her here, they sought her 
there. 
But could not find the child : 
And her old aunts, when they came 
home. 
With grief were nearly wild. 

The servants, and the neighbors too, 
In different ways were sent, 

But no)ic thought of the narrow way 
By which our Pilgrim went. 

"Perhaps she followed us to town," 
One of her aunts then said ; 

"I wish we had not left our home ; 
I fear the child is dead." 

So to the town some one was sent. 
For they knew not what to do ; 

And night came on, when a country 
boy 
Brought Marian's little shoe. 

Taking the shoe, the housekeeper 

Into the parlor ran : 
"Oh, mistress, this is all that's left 

Of poor" Miss Marian ! 

" 'Twas found in that deep miry slough 
Just above Harlan's Chase — 

Poor child ! I fear she's smothered 
For 'tis a frightful place." 

Then louder grew the general grief ; 

But soon their hearts were cheered. 
For a footman now with note in hand 

From the distant Hall appeared. 



370 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



One aunt then read the note, and 


Years rolled away. The scene is 


cried. 


changed ; 


"Oh, sister, all is well — 


A wife and mother now. 


The child is safe at Brooklawn Hall, 


Marian has found the Wicket-gate — 


With Lady Arundel. 


Herself and children too. 


"She wants to keep her for a month. 


And oh ! how pleasant 'tis to see 


And sure I think she may ; 


This little Pilgrim band. 


A friend like Lady Arundel 


As on, toward their heavenly home, 


Is not found every day. 


They travel hand in hand. 


"Our compliments and thanks to her 


When cloudy days fall to their lot. 


When you return, young man ; 


They see a light afar — 


We'll call to-morrow at the Hall, 


The light that shone on Bethlehem's 


And see Miss Marian." 


plain, 




The Pilgrim's guiding star. 


Then came a burst of grateful joy, 




Which could not he suppressed ; 


And now, dear reader, ponder well 


W^ith thankful hearts and many tears 


This tale — though strange, yet true^ 


They went that night to rest. 


And let our Pilgrim's history 




Its lesson read to you. 


Oh, that happy month at Brooklawn 




Hall ! 


If to your young and trustful hearts 


How soon it passed away ! 


The grace of God is given, 


Faithful and kind were Marian's 


Be earnest, as our Marian was, 


friends. 


To seek the road to heaven. 


And well she loved to stay. 




With earnest diligence and prayer 


TRUTH. 


They daily sought to bring 





The little lamb to that safe fold 


Boy, at all times tell the truth. 


Where dwells the Shepherd King. 


Let no lie defile thy mouth ; 




If thou'rt wrong, be still the same — 


Yes, many a lesson, ne'er forgot. 


Speak the truth and bear the blame. 


The little Marian learned ; 




A thoughtful and a happy child 


Truth is honest, truth is sure ; 


She to her home returned. 


Truth is strong and must endure ; 



SUPPOSE. 



371 



Falsehood lasts a single clay, 
Then it vanishes away. 

Boy, at all times tell the truth. 
Let no lie defile thy mouth ; 
Truth is steadfast, sure and fast ■ 
Certain to prevail at last. 



SUPPOSE. 



Suppose, my little lady, 

Your doll should break her head. 
Could you make it whole by crying 

Till your eyes and nose are red ? 




And wouldn't it he pleasanter 

To treat it as a joke. 
And say you're glad " 'twas Dolly's, 

And not your head that broke ? " 

Suppose you're dressed for walking, 
And the rain comes pouring down, 



Will it clear off any sooner 

Because you scold and frown? 

And wouldn't it be nicer 

For you to smile than pout, 

And so make sunshine in the house 
When there is none without. 

Suppose your task, my little man. 

Is very hard to get. 
Will it make it any easier 

For you to sit and fret ? 
And wouldn't it be wiser 

Than waiting, like a dunce. 
To go to work in earnest 

And learn the thing at once ? 

Suppose that some boys have a 
horse 

And some a coach and pair. 
Will it tire you less while walking 

To say "It isn't fair?" 
And wouldn't it be nobler 

To keep your temper sweet. 
And in your heart be thankful 

You can walk upon your feet ? 

And suppose the world don't please 
you, 

Nor the way some people do, 
Do you think the whole creation 

Would be altered just for you? 
And isn't it, my boy or girl 

The wisest, bravest plan. 
Whatever comes or doesn't come, 

To do the best you can ? 

Phcebe Cart. 



372 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



AT SET OF SQN. 

If we set down at set of sun 

And count the things that we have 

done, 

And counting, find 
One self-denying act, one word 
That eased the heart of him who 

heard ; 

One glance most kind. 
That felt like sunshine where it 

went, 
Then we may count the day well 

spent. 

But if, through all the live-long 
day. 



That helped some soul, and nothing 
cost, 




We've eased no heart by yea or nay ; 

If through it all 
We've done no thing that we can trace. 
That brought the sunshine to a 
face ; 

No act, most small. 



Then count that day as worse than 

lost. 



BE POLITE. 



373 



BE POLITE. 

Good l)oys and girls should never say 
"/ tvill," and " Give me these .'" 

Oil, no ; that never is the way, 
But, " Mother, if you please " 

And, " If you please, " to sister Ann, 
Good boys to say are ready ; 

And " Yes, sir," to a gentleman, 
And " Yes, ma\im, " to a lady. 



MAKE YOUR MARK. 

In the quarries should you toil. 
Make your mark ; 

Do you delve upon the soil ? 
Make your mark. 

In whatever path you go, 

In whatever place you stand, 

Moving swift or moving slow. 
With a firm and honest hand, 
Make your mark. 



DARE. 



Dare to be honest, good and sincere. 
Dare to please God, and you never 
need fear. 

Dare to be brave in the cause of the 

right, 
Dare with the enemy ever to fight. 

Dare to be loving and patient each day. 



Dare speak the truth, whatever you 
say. 

Dare to be gentle, and orderly too, 
Dare shun the evil, whatever you do. 

Dare to sj^eak kindly, and ever be 

true. 

Dare to do right, and you'll find your 

way through. 

Denton. 



KATIE'S WAY OF WORKING. 



Little Katie sought to do 
Something for the Savior, too. 

"Old folks work for him," she thought : 
"So can I, and so I ought, 

"I have heard my teacher say, 
'Where there's a will there's a way.' 

"Surely I have got the will, 
Yet the way I see not still. 

"I'm so small, I don't know how 
I can do very much now. 

"Perhaps I better wait a while ;" 
Then o'er her face broke a smile. 

"Satan whispered that," she said; 
"He put that thought in my head ; 

"But I'll not heed him ; ah, no ! 
I'll in prayer to Jesus go, 

"And ask him to teach me how 
I may show my love just now ; 

"And not till I am older wait. 
Lest it then should be too late." 



374 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



Next Sabbath in the Sabbath school 
Katie learned how by rule, 

The Jews of old, with hearts glad. 
Gave one-tenth of all they had. 

Into her mind the thought came : 
"Why can not I do the same ?" 

The prayer was heard ; from that 

day 
Katie knew she'd found the way. 

Of toys, and books, and jiennies, too, 
She laid aside not a few. 

When was formed the mission band, 
Katie lent a helping hand. 

When the Christmas-time came round. 
To her great delight she found 

She had a store, small, but sure. 
Out of which to cheer the poor. 

Thus she worked and thus she gave, 
In hope thereby some soul to save. 



PERSEVERANCE. 



Here's a lesson all should heed — 

Try, try, try again. 
If at first you don't succeed. 

Try, try, try again. 
Let your courage well appear ; 
If you only persevere. 
You will conquer, never fear — 

Try, try, try again. 
Twice or thrice though you should fail. 

Try again. 



If at last you would prevail, 

Try again. 
When you strive, there's no disgrace, 
Though you fail to win the race ; 
Bravely then, in such a case, 

Try, try, try again. 
Let the thing be e'er so hard, 

Try again. 




Time will surely bring reward — 
Try again. 

That which other folks can do. 
Why, with patience, may not you? 
Wliij, with patience, may not you ? 
Try, try, try again. 



BE GLAD AND THANKFUL. 



375 



BE GLAD AND THANKFUL. 



Little children, are j^oii tempted, 
Sometimes, to be cross and fret, 

Just because you cannot always 
Have your selfish wishes met ? 

Did you ever for a moment, 
Think how very rich you are, 

In that little hand so clever. 

Full of grace and beauty rare ? 

Close those eyes so full of sunshine ; 

Let them never see the light ; 
Grope your way here ever after ; 

Let your life be one long night. 

Or let sickness touch your body ; 

Lay you on a bed of pain ; 
Bid those little feet so active, 

Never run and play again. 

Now, dear children, tell me truly. 
For your hands, or eyes, or health. 

Shall I give you gold or silver, 
Till you are increased in wealth ? 

Shall it be ten million dollars, 

In your coffers I will pay. 
And from out this three-fold blessing, 

You w'ill give one strand away ? 

0, no, no ! not for one moment, 
Would you hesitate to choose ; 

You would quickly spurn my offer 
Rather than these blessings lose. 

Learn then to be glad, and thankful. 
And with all tilings be content ; 



For behind each little trial 
Is a needful lesson sent. 



IDLE ANNA. 

On, Anna, this will never do ; 

This work is sadly done, my dear, 
And then so little of it, too ! 

You have not taken pains, I fear. 



'.''4 






:i%. 



Oh, no, your task has been forgotten ; 

Indeed, you hardly thought of that : 
I saw you roll your spool of cotton 

About the floor to please the cat. 

See, here are stitches straggling wide ; 
And others stretching down so far ; 
I'm very sure you have not tried 
In this, at least, to please mamma. 

The little girl who will not sew 
Must neither be allowed to play ; 

And now I hope, my love, that you 
Will take more pains another day. 




6/ 



76 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



THE LITTLE MISSIONARY. 

If I were only big enougli, 
And mamma would go to, 

I'd like to visit India-land' 
And tell the bad Hindoo 

That it is very wrong 
To treat the babies so, 




And throw them to the crocodile ; 
Then they would stop, I know. 

But if they didn't I'd run so quick 

Oh, wouldn't it be fun ! 
And catch them all and bring them 
home. 

Yes, every single one. 



Then next I'd go to China-land, 
And I would make them take 

Those bindings off the children's 
feet. 
And stop that pain and ache. 

And I would burn those dreadful 
things 
To which they kneel and pray. 
And tell them that the road to 
heaven is by another way. 

Then I would go to that dark 
land. 
Where they make people 
slaves ; 
I'd break the chains right off 
their feet, 
And tell them, Jesus saves. 

And that he loves them all, and 
died 

For them as weU as me ; 
But they must be, 0, very good. 

If Jesus they would see. 

It almost makes me cry some- 
times, 

To think these things are so. 
And see big people stay at home ; 

Why don't they want to go ? 

When I ask mamma, she just says, 

" 0, you're the oddest fairy;" 
But don't you think I'm big enough 
to be a missionary ? 



Keep a watch on your words, my 
darling. 
For words are wonderful things ; 



THE SHADOW. 



77 



THE SHADOW. 


"And when j'ou are out some fine day 




in the sun. 


The candles are hghted, the fire blazes 


I'll take you where shadows of apple 


bright, 


trees lie ; 


The curtains are drawn to keep out 


And houses and cottages, too, every 


the cold air ; 


one 


"What makes you so grave, little dar- 


Casts a shade when the sun's shin- 


ling, to-night? 


ing bright in the sky. 


And where is your smile, little quiet 
one, where ?" 


"Now hold up your mouth and give me 
a sweet kiss — 


"Mamma, I see something so dark on 


Our shadows kiss too ! don't you see 


the wall ; 


it quite plain?" 


It moves up and down, and it looks 


" Oh, yes ; and I thank you for telling 


very strange ; 


me this : 


Sometimes it is large, and sometimes 


I'll not be afraid of a shadow again." 


it is small ; 


M. L. Duncan. 


Pray tell me wdiat is it, and why 
does it change ? " 


LEARN YOUR LESSON. 


"It's only my shadow that puzzles you 


You'll not learn your lesson by crying. 


so; 


my man, * 


And there is your own close beside 


You'll never come at it by crying, my 


it, my love : 


man ; 


Now run round the room, it will go 


Not a word can j'ou spy 


where you go ; 


For the tear in ^-our eye ; 


When you sit 'twill be still, when 


Then set your heart to it, for surely 


3-0U rise it will move. 


you can. 


"These wonderful shadows are caused 


If 3'ou like your lesson, it's sure to 


by the light. 


like you. 


From fire and from candles, upon 


The words then so glibly would jump 


us that falls ; 


into view ; 


Were we not sitting here all that place 


Each one to its place 


would be bright. 


All the others would chase, 


But the light can't shine through 


Till the laddie w^ould wonder how 


us, you know, on the walls. 


clever he grew. 



378 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



You'll cry till yon make yourself 

stupid and blind, 
And then not a word can you keep in 
your mind ; 

But cheer up your heart, 
And you'll soon have your part, 
For all things grow easy when bairns 
are inclined. 

Alexander Smart. 



THE MILLER OF THE DEE. 



There dwelt a miller, hale and bold. 

Beside the river Dee ; 
He worked and sang from morn till 
night. 

No lark more blithe than he ; 
And this the burden of his song 

For ever used to be : 
"I envy nobody, no, not I, 

And nobody envies me." 

"Thou'rt wrong, my friend, said good 
King Hal — 

"As wrong as wrong can be — 
For could my heart be light as thine, 

I'd gladly change with thee ; 
And tell me now, what makes thee 
sing, 

With voice so loud and free. 
While I am sad, though I'm the king. 

Beside the river Dee." 

The miller smiled and doffed his cap : 

" I earn my bread," quoth he ; 
" I love my wife, I love my friend. 



I love my children three ; 
I owe no penny I cannot pay ; 

I thank the river Dee, 
That turns the mill that grinds the 
corn 

That feeds my babes and me." 

"Good friend," said Hal, and sighed 
the while, 

" Farewell and happy be ; 
But say no more, if thou'dst be true. 

That no one envies thee : 
Thy mealy cap is worth my crown. 

Thy mill, my kingdom's fee ; 
Such men as thou are England's 
boast, 

miller of the Dee ! " 

Charles Mackat. 



PATIENT JOE; 

Or, The Newcastle Collier. 

Have you heard of a collier of honest 
renown, 

Who dwelt on the borders of Newcas- 
tle town ? 

His name it was Joseph — you better 
may know 

If I tell you he always was called Pa- 
tient Joe. 

Whatever betided, he thought it was 

right. 
And Providence still he kept ever in 

sight ; 



THE MILKMAID. 



379 



To those who love God, let things turn 

as they would, 
He was certain that all worked together 

for good. 

How sincere was the gratitude Joseph 

expressed ! 
How warm the compassion that glowed 

in his hreast ! 
Thus events, great and small , if aright 

understood, 
Will be found to be working together 

for good. 

"When my meat," Joseph cried, "was 

just stolen away, 
And I had no prospect of eating to- 

How could it appear to a short- 
sighted sinner 

That my life would be saved by the 
loss of my dinner ? " 

Hannah Mobe. 



THE MILKMAID. 

A milkmaid who poised a full jjail on 

her head, 
Thus mused on her .prospects in life. 

it is said : 
" Let's see — I should think that this 

milk will procure 
One hundred good eggs, or fourscore, 

to be sure. 

" Well, then — stop a bit — it must not 
be forgotten 



Some of these may be broken, and 

some may be rotten ; 
But if twenty for accident should be 

detached, 
It will leave me just sixty sound eggs 

to be hatched. 

" Well, sixty sound eggs — no, sound 

chickens, I mean; 
Of these some may die — we'll suppose 

seventeen. 
Seventeen ? not so many — say ten at 

the most, 
Which will leave fifty chickens to boil 

or to roast. 
" But then there's their barley ; how 

much will they need ? 
Why, the}' take but one grain at a time 

when they feed ; 
So that's a mere trifle ; now, then, let 

us see 
At a fair market price how much 

money there'll be. 

" Six shillings a pair — five — four — 
three-and-six ; 

To prevent all mistakes, that low price 
I will fix ; 

Now what will that make ? fifty chick- 
ens I said ; 

Fifty times three-and-six-pence — I'll 
ask brother Ned. 

" Oh ! but stop — three-and-sixpence 

a pair I must sell 'em ; 
Well, a pair is a couple — now, then, 

let us tell 'em : 



38o 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



A couple in fifty will go — (my ])Oor 

brain !) 
Wliy, just a score times, and five pair 

will remain. 

"Twenty-five pairs of fowls — now, how 

tiresome it is 
That I cannot reckon up such mone}^ 

as this ! 
Well, there's no use in trying, so let's 

give a guess — 
I'll say twenty pounds, and it cannot 

he less. 

" Twenty pounds, I am certain, will 

buy me a cow, 
Thirty geese and two turkeys, eight 

pigs and a sow : 
Now, if these turn out well, at the end 

of the year 
I shall fill both my pockets with 

guineas, 'tis clear." 

Forgetting her burden when this she 

had said. 
The maid superciliously tossed up her 

head ; 
When, alas for her prospects ! — her 

milk-pail descended. 
And so all her schemes for the future 

were ended. 

This moral, I think, may be safely 

attached : 
Reckon not on your chickens before 

they are hatched. 

Jeffreys Taylok. 



THE CHATTERBOX. 

From morning till night it was Lucy's 
delight 
To chatter and talk without stop- 
ping ; 
There was not a day but she rattled 
away, 
Like water forever a-dropping. 

As soon as she rose, while she i)ut on 
her clothes, 
'Twas vain to endeavor to still 
her; 
Nor once did she lack to continue her 
clack, 
Till again she lay down on her pil- 
low. 

You'll think now, perhaps, there 
would have been gaj^s 
If she hadn't been wonderful 
clever — 
That her sense was so grea^t, and so 
witty her pate, 
That it would be forthcoming for- 
ever ; 

But that's quite absurd ! for have you 
not heard 
That much tongue and few brains 
are connected? — 
That they are supposed to think least 
who talk most, 
And their wisdom is always sus- 
pected '? 



ALL HAVE WORK TO DO. 



33 1 



While Lucy was young, had she bri- 
dled her tongue 
With a little good sense and exer- 
tion, 
Who knows hut she might now have 
been our delight, 
Instead of our jest and aversion ? 

Jane taylor 




ALL HAVE WORK TO DO. 

A child went wandering through a wood 

Upon a summer day ; 
She hoped to meet some pretty thing 
To join her in her play. 



The cloudless sky above was blue, 
The grass beneath was green, 

And all around were lovely tlowers, 
The brightest ever seen. 

A honey-bee went humming by — 
" Stay, little bee ! " she cried, 

" Oh, do come back and play with me." 
And thus the bee replied : 

" I cannot stay, I must 
away, 
And gather in my 
store, 
For winter drear will 
soon be here. 
When I can work no 
more." 

She heard a pigeon coo- 
ing soft 
High in the bough 
above — 
" Come down, and play 
a while with me, 
My pretty, genth' 
dove." 

■ I cannot come and 
play with thee. 
For I must guard my 
nest, 

And keep my sleeping children 
warm 
Beneath my downy breast." 

She saw a squirrel gathering nuts 
Upon a tall beech tree — 



382 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



" I love to see you bound and leap ; 
Come down and play with me." 

" I dare not i^lay, I must away, 
And quickly homeward hie ; 

Were I to stay, my little ones 
For want of food must die." 

She came unto a stream that leaped 
Between its rocky banks — 

" Stay, pretty stream, and play with 
me. 
And you shall have my thanks." 

The stream replied, while in the pool 

A moment it stood still, 
" I cannot play, I must away 

x\nd drive the village mill." 

The child sat down upon a stone, 

And hung her little head : 
She wept a while, and sobbed a while. 

Then to herself she said : 
" The stream, the squirrel, dove and 
bee 

Have all got work to do ; 
I must not play my hours away — 

I must be busy too." 



A BOY THAT TOLD A LIE. 

The mother looked pale, and her face 

was sad ; 
She seemed to have nothing to make 

her glad; 



She silently sat with the tears in her 

eye, 
For her dear little boy had told a lie. 

He was a gentle, affectionate child ; 
His ways were winning, his temper 

was mild ; 
There was love and joy in the soft 

blue eye. 
But the dear little boy had told a lie. 

He stood alone by the window within, 
For he felt that his soul was stained 

with sin ; 
And his mother could hear him sob 

and cry, 
Because he had told her that wicked 

lie. 

Then he came and stood by his moth- 
er's side, 

And asked for a kiss, which she de- 
nied; 

While he promised with many a peni- 
tent sigh, 

That he never would tell another lie. 

So she bade him before her kneel 

gently down. 
And took his soft hands within her 

own, 
And she kissed his cheek as he looked 

on high 
And prayed to be pardoned for telling 

that lie. 



THE APPLE TREE. 



383 



THE APPLE TREE. 

Old John had an aj^iDle tree, healthy 

and green, 
Which bore the best Baldwins that 
ever were seen, 
So juicy, and mellow, and red ; 
And when they were ripe, as Johnny 

was poor, 
He sold them to children that passed 
by his door, 
To buy him a morsel of bread. 

Little Dick, his next neighbor, one 

often might see 
With longing eye viewing this nice 
apple tree. 
And wishing an apple would fall. 
One day, as he stood in the heat of 

the sun, 
He began thinking whether he might 
not take one, 
And then he looked over the wall. 

And as he again cast his eye on the 

tree. 
He said to himself, "Oh, how nice 

they would be. 
So cool and refreshing to-day ! 
The tree is so full, and I'd only take 

one ; 
And old John won't see, for he is not 

at home. 
And nobody is in the way." 

But stop, little boy; take your hand 
from the bough ; 



Eemember, though old John can't see 
you just now, 
And no one to chide you is nigh, 
There is One who by night, just as 

by day. 
Can see all you do, and can hear all 
you say. 
From His glorious throne in the sky. 

Oh, then, little boy, come away from 

the tree. 
Content, hot or weary, or thirsty to be. 

Or anything rather than steal ! 
For the great God, who even through 

darkness can look. 
Writes down every crime we commit 
in His book. 
However we think to conceal. 

Jane Taylor. 



THE STOLEN TOP. 

" Edward, come here ; how pale you 
are ! 

What makes you look so wild ? 
And you've been crying sadly too ; 

What's happened to my child ?" 

"You know, mamma, you sent me 
do\Mi 

To neighbor Brightman's shop 
With ninepence in my hand, to buy 

A little humming-top. 

" Well, neighbor Brightman ha'nded 
down 
A dozen tops or more, 



'M 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



For me to make a choice of one ; 
Then stepped toward the door. 

" So then I caught one slyly up, 
• And in my pocket slid it ; 
And no one would suspect the thing, 
So cunningly I hid it. 

" And so I bought another top 
And laid my ninepence down, 

Then laughed to think I owned them 
both. 
But paid for only one. 

" But when I turned and left the shop 

I felt most dreadfully. 
For all the time I was in fear 

That he would follow me. 

" Surely, thought I, he'll find it out ; 

The angry man will come, 
And I shall never see mamma, 

And never more go home. 

" He'll tie a rope around my neck. 

And hang me up on high ; 
And leave the little wicked thief 

To hang there till he die. 

"And then I screamed, and ran so 
fast 

Adown the nearest lane ; 
And then I turned and looked behind. 

Then screamed and ran again. 

"Trembling, at last I reached my 
home, 
And straight I went to bed, 



But oh, in such a shocking fright 
That I was almost dead. 

" No rest, nor comfort could I get. 

And not a wink of sleep ; 
All I could do was toss and turn 

From side to side, and weep. 

"And what was worst of all, mamma, 
I could not say my prayers ; 

And then I thought my heart w^ould 
burst 
And I was drowned in tears. 

" 'No, no,' I cried ; 'God will not hear 

A child so wicked pray ; 
I dare not hope He'll let me live 

To see another day.' 

" Thus did I mourn till morning's 
dawn, 

And yet found no relief ; 
For oh, what comfort can there be, 

Or pleasure, for a thief ?" 

"Go, my poor, wretched, guilty child — 
Go, take the top you stole, 

And give it to the man you've wronged, 
And own to him the whole. 

"Then on your knees l)efore j'our God 
Confess how wrong j^ou've been ; 

Beg Him to save you, and forgive 
This great and dreadful sin. 

" And never, while you live, again 

To such a deed consent. 
Lest He should take away your life 

Before you can repent." 

"Lullabies and Dittieh." 



WILLIE AND THE APPLE. 



385 



WILLIE AND THE APPLE. 

Little Willie stood under an apple tree 

old ; 
The fruit was all shining with crimson 

and gold, 
Hanging temptingly low ; how he 

longed for a bite, 
Though he knew if he took one it 

wouldn't be right ! 

Said he, '' I don't see why my father 
should say, 

' Don't touch the old apple tree, Wil- 
lie, to-day ; ' 

I shouldn't have thought — now they're 
hanging so low — 

When I asked for just one, he should 
answer me 'No.' 

" He would never find out if I took 

but just one, 
And they do look so good, shining out 

in the sun ; 
There are hundreds and hundreds, 

and he wouldn't miss 
So paltry a little red apple as this." 

He stretched forth his hand, but a low 
mournful strain 

Canie wandering dreamingly over his 
brain ; 

In his bosom a beautiful harp had 
long laid, 

That the angel of conscience quite fre- 
quently played. 



And he sung, " Little Willie, beware, 

oh, beware ! 
Your father has gone, but your Maker 

is there ; 
•How sad you would feel if you heard 

the Lord say, 
' This dear little boy stole an apple 

to-day' !" 




Then Willie turned round, and, as 

still as a mouse, 
Crept slowly and carefully into the 

house ; 
In his own little chamber he knelt 

down to pra}' 
That the Lord would forgive him and 

please not to say, 
" Little Willie almost stole an apple 

to-day." 

COMFORT. 

In the hour of my distress, 
When temjitations me oppress, 
And when I my sins confess, 

Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! 



386 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



WHAT THE CHOIR SANG ABOUT 
THE NEW BONNET. 

A foolish little maiden bought a fool- 
ish little bonnet, 




With a ribbon and a feather, and a 
bit of lace upon it ; 

And that the other maidens of the lit- 
tle town might know it, 



She thought she'd go to meeting the 
next Sunday just to show it. 

But though the little bonnet was scarce 

larger than a dime, 
The getting of it settled, proved to be 

a work of time ; 
So, when it was fairly tied, all the 

bells had stopped their ringing, 
And when she came to meeting, sure 

enough the folks were singing. 

So this foolish little maiden stood and 

waited at the door, 
And she shook her ruffles out behind, 

and smoothed them down before. 
"Hallelujah ! hallelujah ! " sang the 

choir above her head ; 
"Hardly knew you ! hardly knew you ! " 

were the w^ords she thought they 

said. 

This made the little maiden feel so 

very, very cross 
That she gave her little mouth a twist 

and her head a little toss. 
For she thought the very hymn they 

sang was all about her bonnet, 
With a ribbon and a feather and a bit 

of lace upon it. 

And she did not wait to listen to the 

sermon or the prayer. 
But pattered down the silent street 

and hurried up the stair. 



THE RICHEST PRINCJ:. 



3^7 



'Till she'd reached her little hureau, 

and in a bandbox on it 
Had hidden, safe from critic's eye, her 

foolish little bonnet. 

Which proves, my little maidens, that 

each of you will find 
In every Sabbath service but an echo 

of your mind ; 
And the little head that's filled with 

silly airs 
Will never get a blessing from sermons 

or from prayers. 

Alice C. Hammond. 



THE RICHEST PRINCE. 

Once, as many German princes 
Feasting sat at knightly board, 

Each began to boast the treasures 
He within his lands had stored. 

Cried the Saxon : "Great and mighty 
Is the wealth, the power I wield. 

For within my Saxon mountains 
Sparkling silver lies concealed." 

" Mine's the land that glows with 
beauty !" 

Cried the ruler of the Rhine ; 
" In the valleys yellow corn fields, 

On the mountains noble wine !" 

"Wealthy cities, spacious castles," 
Lewis said, Bavaria's lord, 

" Make my land to yield me treasures 
Great as those your fields afford." 



Wurtemberg's beloved ruler, 

Everard, called " the Bearded," 
cries, 
" I can boast no splendid cities. 

In my hills no silver lies ; 

"But I still can boast one jewel: 
Through my forests, wandering on. 

All my subjects know me — love me — 
I am safe with every one." 

Then the princes, all together. 
Rose within that lofty hall : 

"Bearded count, thou'rt rich," they 
shouted, 
" Thou art wealthiest of us all ! " 



THE PLUM CAKE. 

"Oh, I've got a plum cake, and a rare 

feast I'll make ; 

I'll eat, and I'll stuff, and I'll cram ; 

Morning, noontime, and night, it shall 

be my delight ; 

What a happy young fellow I am !" 

Thus said little George, and, begin- 
ning to gorge. 
With zeal to his cake he apphcd ; 
While fingers and thumbs, for the 
sweetmeats and plums. 
Were hunting and digging beside. 

But, woeful to tell, a misfortune be- 
fell, 
Which ruined his capital fun ; 



388 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



After eating bis fill, be was taken so 
ill, 
Tbat he trembled for wbat be bad 
done. 

As be grew worse and worse, tbe doc- 
tor and nurse 



ANOTHER PLUM CAKE. 




To cure bis disorder were sent, 
And rightly, you'll think, he bad phy- 
sic to drink. 
Which made him his folly repent. 

And while on bis bed he rolled his hot 
head, 
Impatient with sickness and pain. 
He could not but take this reproof for 
his cake : 
" Don't be such a glutton again." 

Ann Tatlob. 



" Oh, I've got a plum cake, and a feast 

let us make ; 
Come, school-fellows, come at my call ; 
I assure you 'tis nice, and we'll each 

have a slice — 
Here's more than enough for us 
ah." 

Thus said little Jack, as he gave it a 
smack, 
And sharpened his knife for the 
job; 
While round him a troop formed a 
clamorous group, 
And bailed him tbe king of the 
mob. 

With masterly strength he cut through 
it at length, 
And gave to each playmate a share ; 
Dick, William, and James, and many 
more names. 
And a blind man partook of his 
care. 

And when it was done, and they'd fin- 
ished their fun. 
To nuirbles or hoops they went 
back, 
And each little boy felt it always a 
joy 
To do a good turn for good Jack. 

In his task and his book bis best 
pleasure he took, 



THE TRIPLE PLEDGE. 



389 



And as he thus wisely began, 

Since he's been a man grown he has 

constantly shown 
That a good boy will make a good 

man. 

AxN Taylor. 



THE TRIPLE PLEDGE. 

We will not buy, 

We will not make, 
We will not use ; 

We w^ill not take 
Wine, cider, beer. 

Rum, whiskey, gin ; 
Because they lead 

Mankind to sin. 

We will not smoke 

The smoker's pets. 
Those little things 

Called cigarettes. 
We will not chew ; 

W^e will not snuff, 
Or waste our time 

In playing puff. 

We will not curse. 

Though many dare 
Open their lips 

To curse and swear. 
Our words shall l)e 

Both pure and plain ; 
We will not take 

God's name in vain. 



. THEY SAY. 

The subject of my speech is one 
We hear of every day — 

'Tis simply all about the fear 
We have of what ''thcij say!" 










How happy all of us? could be. 
If — as we 'go our wa}'-- — 

We did not stop to think and care 
So much for what ^'thcy sai/." 



390 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



We never dress to go outside, 
To church, to ball, to play, 

But everything we wear or do 
Is ruled by what "theij say" 

Half of the struggles we each make 

To keep up a display, 
Might be avoided, were it not 

For dread of what "tJiey say." 

The half of those who leave their 
homes 

For Long Branch and Cape May 
Would never go, if it were not 

For fear of what "tJiei/ s((y.'" 

One reason why I'm now so scared 
(Pardon the weakness, pray!) 

Is that I'm thinking all the while, 
"Of me what will 'they say'! " 

But so 't will be, I judge, as long 
As on the earth folks stay — 

There'll always be, with wise and fools. 
That dread of what 'Hhcy say." 



DON'T. 



Don't worry nor fret 

About what people think 
Of your ways or your means. 

Of your food or your drink. 
If you know you're doing 

Your best every day, 
With the right on your side. 

Never mind what "they" say. 



LOVE YOUR ENEMIES. 



Angry looks can do no good, 

And blows are dealt in blindness ; 

Words are better understood, 
If spoken out in kindness. 

Simple love far more hath wrought. 
Although by childhood muttered. 

Than all the battles ever fought, 
Or oaths that men have uttered. 

Friendship oft would longer last. 
And quarrels be prevented, 

If little words were let go past, 
Forgiven — not resented. 

Foolish things are frowns and sneers, 
For angry thoughts reveal them ; 

Rather drown them all in tears. 
Than let another feel them. 



HOW DO THEY GROW. 

This is only a blade of grass ; 
But how does it grow ? 
Does any one know? 

The seasons come, and the seasons 
pass, 
And with every year 
The grass we have here. 

So green and bright in the sun and rain ; 
And then it is brown 
When the snow comes down, 

But young and fresh in the Spring again. 



WHERE DO THE WRINKLES COME EROM ? 



391 



This is only a little girl ; 


" Where do the wrinkles come from ? 


But how does she grow ? 


Why first, dear, I suppose, 


Does any one know •? 


The heart lets in a sorrow, 


'With her hair of gold and her teeth of 


And then a wrinkle grows. 


pearl '? 




From a baby so wee 


" Then anger comes a-tapping, 


She will grow to be 


And the heart's door opens wide ; 




A maiden as fair as a blooming rose ; 

But no one can say. 

As day follows day. 
How a blade of grass or a little girl 

grows. 



WHERE DO THE WRINKLES 
COME FROM? 

" Where do the wrinkles come from ?" 

And joyous little Grace 
Looked gravely in the mirror 

At her rose-tinted face. 



Then hasten naughty envy 
And discontent and pride. 

" And the wrinkles follow slowly ; 

For the face has for its part 
To tell just what is doing 

Down in the secret heart. 

" And the red lips lose their sweetness, 
And draw down so," said Grace, 

" And the lovely youthful angel 
Goes slowly from the face. 

" Watch the gate of the heart, my 
darling. 



392 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



For the heart is the dwelling-place 
Of the magical angel of beauty, 
Whose smile is seen in 'the face." 



SPEAK THE TRUTH. 

Speak the truth ! 
Speak it boldly, never fear ; 
Speak it so that all may hear ; 
In the end it shall appear 
Truth is best in age and youth. 
Speak the truth. 



TWO PICTURES. 



An old farm-house, with meadows wide. 
And sweet with clover on each side ; 
A bright-eyed boy, who looks from 

out 
The door, with woodbine wreathed 

about, 
And wishes his one thought all day : 
" Oh, if I could but fly away 
From this dull spot, the world to see, 
How happy, happy, happy. 
How happy I should be ! " 

Amid the city's constant din, 
A man who round the world has been, 
Who, 'mid the tumult and the throng. 
Is thinking, thinking, all day long, 
" Oh, could I only tread once more 
The field-path to the farm-house door, 
The old green meadows could I see, 
How happy, happy, happy, 
How happy I should be !" 

Maeian Douglass. 



SAILING TO-NIGHT. 

There's a ship on the sea. It is sail- 
ing to-night — 




Sailing to-night ; — 
And father's aboard, and the moon is 
all bright — 

Shining and bright. 



BUSY LITTLE KUSEAXD:MAX. 



393 



Dear Moon, he'll be sailing for many Unfold your hands and wake your 
a night — ! eyes ; 

Sailing from mother and me ; Don't be content to rust. 

Oh, follow the ship with your silvery 
light, 

As father sails over the sea ! 



BUSY LITTLE HUSBANDMAN. 



I'm a little husbandman, 
Work and labor hard I can ; 
I'm as happy all the day 
At my work as if 'twere play ; 
Though I've nothing fine to wear. 
Yet for that I do not care. 

"When to work I go along, 
Singing loud my morning song, 
With my wallet on my back, 
And my wagon-whip to crack, 
Oh, I'm thrice as happy then 
As the idle gentleman. 

I've a hearty appetite, 
And I soundly sleep at night ; 
Down I lie content, and say 
I've been useful all the day ; 
I'd rather be a ploughboy than 
A useless little gentleman. 



DON'T BE CONTENT TO RUST. 

Come, rouse and shake yourself, my 
friend ! 
Shake off the sluggard's dust ; 




Away with indolence, and rise 

Above the brutish sloth, 
And health and ease will come if thou 

Be not to labor loth. 



394 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



Come out, and show your better self, 

Nor lag while others run ; 
There's not an hour, or day, but hath 

Something that may be done — 
Something, my friend, 
that you can do, 

If but to earn a crust, 
And better that than sit 
and mope, 

And be content to rust. 



"Co', boss ! co' boss ! co' I co' ! co' ! " 
Farther, farther over the hill. 
Faintly calhng, calling still, — 

"Co' boss ! co' boss ! co' ! co' !" 



FARM-YARD SONG. 

Over the hill the farm- 
boy goes ; 

His shadow lengthens 
along the land, 

A giant staff in a giant 
hand ; 

In the poplar tree, above 
the spring, 

The katydid begins to 
sing ; 
The early dews are 
falling ;— 

Into the stone-heap darts 
the mink, 

The swallows skim the 
river's brink ; 

And home to the wood- 
land b}^ the crows, 

"When over the hill the farm-boy 
goes, 
Cheerily calling, — 




Into the yard the farmer goes, 

With grateful heart at the close of day; 

Harness and chain are hung away; 



grandmother's farm. 



395 



111 the wngon-shed stand yoke and 

plough ; 
The straw's in the stack, the hay m 
the mow, 
The coohng dews are falhng : — 
The friendly sheep his welcome hleat, 
The pigs come grmitiiig to his feet. 
The whinnying mare her master knows 
"When into the yard the farmer goes, 
His cattle calling — 
"Co' boss ! co' boss ! co' I co' !" 
While still the cow-boy, far away, 
Goes seeking those that have gone 
astray— 
"Co' boss ! co' boss ! co' ! co' !" 

Now to her task the milkmaid goes. 
The cattle come crowding through, the 
Lowing, pushing, little and great ; 
About the trough, by the farm-yard 

pump. 
The frolicsome yearlings frisk and 
jump. 

While the pleasant dews are falling. 
But the old cow waits with tranquil eye ; 
And the white stream into the bright 

pail flows, 
When to her task tire milkmaid goes, 

Soothingly calling, — 

"So boss ! so boss ! so ! so ! so !" 
The cheerful milkmaid takes her stool, 
And sits and milks in the twilight cool, 

Saying "So ! so, boss ! so ! so !" 

To supper at last the farmer goes. 
The apples are pared, the paper read. 



The stories are told, then all to l)ed. 
Without, the cricket's ceaseless song 
Makes shrill the silence all night long : 

The heavy dews are falling, — 
The housewife's hand has turned the 

lock ; 
Drowsily ticks the kitchen clock ; 
But still in sleep the farm-boy goes 

Singing, calling,— 

" Co' boss ! co' boss ! co' ! co' ! co' ! " 
And the milkmaid in her dreams 
Drums in the pail with the flashing 
streams, 

Murmuring, "So boss ! so !" 

John Townsexd TEO\vERiDc;:r. 



GRANDMOTHER'S FAR?.!. 

My grandmother lives on a farm 
Just twenty miles from town ; 

She's sixty-five years old, she says ; 
Her name is Grandma Brown. 

Her farm is very large and fine ; 

There's meadow, wood and field. 
And orchards which all kinds of fruits 

Most plentifully yield. 

Butter she churns, and makes nice 

cheese ; 
They are so busy there, 

If mother should stay with me too, 
I'd like to do my share. 

I go out with the haymakers. 
And tumble on the hay ; 



396 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



They put me up upon the load, 
And home we drive away. 

I go into the pleasant fields 
And gather berries bright ; 

They've many, many thousands there. 
All fresh and sweet and ripe, 

A pretty brook runs 
through the farm, 
Singing so soft and 
sweet : 
I sit upon the grassy 
bank, 
And bathe my little 
feet. 



I think I'll save all that I get, 
And earn all that I can 

And buy me such a pleasant farm 
When I grow up a man. 



CHOICE OF OCCUPATIONS. 




A farmer I would like to be, 
■ They live so pleasantly ; 
They must be happy while they work. 
Singing so cheerfully. 



JOHX. 

I mean to be a soldier. 

With uniform quite new ; 
I wish they'd let me have a 
drum. 

And be a captain too : 
I would go amid the battle. 

With my broadsword in my 
hand. 
And hear the cannon rattle, 

And the music all so grand. 



MOTHER. 

My son, my son ! what if that sword 

Should strike a noble heart, 
And bid some loving father 

From his little ones depart ? 
What comfort would your waving 
plumes 

And brilliant dress bestow. 
When you thought upon his widow's 
tears. 

And her orphans' cry of woe ? 

WILLIAM. 

I mean to be a President, 
And rule each rising state. 

And hold my levees once a week 
For all the gay and great ; 



THE PRIDE OF BATTERY B. 



397 



I'll be a king, except a crown — 
For that they won't allow — 

And I'll find out what the Tariff is, 
That puzzles me so now. 

MOTHER. 

My son, my son ! the cares of state 

Are thorns upon the breast, 
That ever pierce the good man's heart 

And rob him of his rest ; 
The great and gay to him appear 

As trifling as the dust, 
For he knows how little they are worth, 

How faithless is their trust. 

LOUISA, 

I mean to be a cottage-girl, 

And sit behind a rill, 
And morn and eve my pitcher there 

With purest water fill ; 
And I'll train a lovely woodbine 

Around my cottage-door, 
And w^elcome to my winter hearth 

The wandering and the poor. 

MOTHER. 

Louisa, dear, a humble mind 

'Tis beautiful to see, 
And you shall never hear a word 

To check that mind from me ; 
But ah ! remember pride may dwell 

Beneath the woodbine's shade, 
And discontent, a sullen guest. 

The cottage-hearth invade. 

CAROLINE. 

I will be gay and courtly, 
And dance away the hours ; 



Music and sport and joy shall dwell 

Beneath my fairy bowers ; 
No heart shall ache with sadness 

Within my laughing hall. 
But the note of love and gladness 

Ee-echo to my call. 

MOTHER. 

Oh, children ! sad it makes my soul 
To hear your playful strain ; 

I cannot bear to chill your youth 
With images of pain ; 

Yet humbly take what God bestows, 
And, like His own fair flowers, 

Look up in sunshine with a smile, 

And gently bend in showers. 

Caroline Oilman. 



THE PRIDE OF BATTERY B. 

[This poem is a "gem of the purest ray serene."' 
It recounts an incident of the late civil war. A lit- 
tle orphan child, a war waif, adopted by a battery 
of the Southern troops, is so distressed by the 
failure of the tobacco supplies of her whilom guar- 
dians, that she escapes from her tent, and, crossing 
to the enemy's entrenchment, begs a supply from 
the Yankee soldiers. The latter send her back well 
supplied with the weed so dear to the soldier's 
heart, and during the rest of the engagement the 
gunners on the Yankee side refuse to direct their 
shells in the vicinity of the cliild's detachment. 
This poem has enjoyed remarkable popularity, and 
has been widely copied in England and elsewhere.] 

South Mountain towered on our right, 

far off the river lay, 
And over on the wooded height we 

held their lines at bay. 
At last the mutt'ring guns were 

stilled ; the day died slow and 

wan ; 



39S 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



At last the gunners' pipes were filled, 

tbe Sergeant's yarns began. 
When, — as the wind a moment blew 

aside the fragrant flood 
Our brierwoods raised, — within our 

view a little maiden stood. 
A tiny tot of six or seven, from fire- 
side fresh she seemed 
(Of such a little one in heaven one 

soldier often dreamed). 
And, as we stared, her little hand 

went to her curly head 
In grave salute : " And who are you ?" 

at length the Sergeant said. 
" And where's your home?" he growled 

again. Shelispedout,"Who isme? 
Why, don't you know? I'm little 

Jane, the Pride of Battery ' B.' 
My home? Why, that was burned 

away, and pa and ma are dead, 
And so, so I ride the guns all day 

along with Sergeant Ned. 
And I've a drum that's not a toy, a cap 

with feathers, too. 
And I march beside the drummer boy 

on Sundays at review ; 
But now our 'bacca's all give out, the 

men can't have their smoke. 
And so they're cross — why, even Ned 

won't play with me and joke, 
And the big Colonel said to-day — I 

hate to hear him swear — 
He'd give a leg for a good pipe like 

the Yanks had over there 
And so I thought when beat the drum 

and the big guns were still. 



I'd creep beneath the tent and come 

out here across the hill, 
And beg, good Mister Yankee men, 

you'd give me some tobac ; 
Please do — when we get some again 

I'll surely bring it back. 
Indeed I will, for Ned — says he — if I 

do what I say, 
I'll be a general yet, maybe, and ride 

a prancing bay. " 
We brimmed her tiny apron o'er ; you 

should have heard her laugh 
As each man from his scanty store 

shook out a generous half. 
To kiss the little mouth stooped down 

a score of grimy men, 
Until the Sergeant's husky voice sail 

" 'Tention, squad;" and then 
We gave her escort, till good night the 

pretty waif we bid. 
And watched her toddle out of sight — 

or else 'twas tears that hid 
Her tiny form — nor turned about a 

man, nor spoke a word, 
'Till after while a far, hoarse shout 

upon the wind was heard ! 
We sent it back — then cast sad eye 

upon the scene around, 
A baby's hand had touched the tie 

that brothers once had bound. 
That's all — save when the dawn awoko 

again the work of hell. 
And through the sullen clouds of 

smoke the screaming missiles fell ; 
Our General often rubbed his glass 

and marveled much to see 



THE SAILOR boy's DREAM. 



399 



Not a single shell that whole day fell 
in the lines of Battery " B " 

Fbank H. Gassaway. 



THE SAILOR BOY'S DREAM. 

In slumbers of midnight the sailor boy 
lay, 
His hammock swung loose at the 
sport of the wind ; 
But, watchworn and weary, his cares 
flew away, 
And visions of happiness danced 
o'er his mind. 

He dreamed of his home, of his dear 
native bowers, 
And pleasures that waited on life's 
merry morn, 
Wliile Memory stood sideways, half 
covered with flowers. 
And restored every rose, but se- 
creted its thorn. 

Then Fancy her magical pinions 
spread wide. 
And bade the young dreamer in ec- 
stasy arise ; 
Now, far, far behind him the green 
waters glide, 
And the cot of his forefathers blesses 
his eyes. 

The jessamine clambers in flower o'er 
the thatch, 
And the swallow sings sweet from 
her nest in the wall ; 



All trembling with transport, he raises 
the latch. 
And the voices of loved ones reply 
to his call. 

A father bends o'er him, with looks 
of delight, 
His cheek is impearled with a moth- 
er's warm tear. 

And the hps of the boy in a love-kiss 
unite 

With the lips of the maid whom his 
bosom holds dear. 

The heart of the sleeper beats high in 
his breast ; 
Joy quickens his pulses — his hard- 
ships seem o'er; 
And a murmur of happiness steals 
through his rest — 
"Kind Fate, thou hast blest me ! I 
ask for no more." 

Ah ! what is that flame which now 
bursts on his eye '? 
Ah ! what is that sound which now 
'larums his ear? 
'Tis the lightning's red glare, painting 
hell on the sky, 
'Tis the crashing of thunders, the 
groan of the sphere ! 

He springs from his hammock, he flies 
to the deck — 
Amazement confronts him with im- 
ages dire ; 

Wild winds and mad waves drive the 
vessel a wreck — 



400 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



The masts fly in splinters — the 
shrouds are on fire ! 

Like moinitains the billows tremen- 
dously swell ; 
In vain the lost wretch calls on 
Mercy to save ; 
Unseen hands of spirits are ringing 
his knell ; 
And the death-angel flaps his broad 
wing o'er the wave ! 

Oh, sailor boy ! woe to thy dream of 
delight ! 
In darkness dissolves the gay frost- 
work of bliss ; 
Where now is the picture that Fancy 
touched bright, 
Thy parents' soft pressure and 
love's honeyed kiss '? 

Oh, sailor boy ! sailor boy ! never again 
Shall home, love, or kindred thy 
wishes repay ; 
Unblessed and uuhonored, down deep 
in the main. 
Full many a fathom thy frame shall 
decay. 

No tomb shall e'er plead to remem- 
brance for thee, 
Or redeem form or frame from the 
merciless surge ; 
But the white foam of waves shall thy 
winding-sheet be, 
And winds, in the midnight of win- 
ter, thy dirge ! 



On beds of green sea-flowers thy limbs 
shall be laid. 
Around thy white bones the red 
coral shall grow ; 
Of thy fair yellow locks threads of 
amber be made, 
And every part suit to thy mansion 
below. 

Days, months, years, and ages shall 
circle away. 
And still the vast waiters above thee 
shall roll ; 
Earth loses thy pattern forever and 
aye ! 
Oh, sailor boy ! sailor boy ! peace 
to thy soul ! 

William Dimond. 



THE SOLDIER'S DREAM. 



Our bugles sang truce, for the night 
had lowered, 
And the sentinel stars set their 
watch in the sky, 
And thousands had sunk on the ground 
overpowered — 
The weary to sleep, and the wound- 
ed to die. 

When reposing at night on my pallet 

of straw. 
By the wolf-scaring fagot that guard- 

the slain, 
At the dead of the night a sweet vision 

I saw. 



THE LITTLE DRUMMER. 



401 



And thrice ere the morning I dreamt 
it again. 

Methought from the battlefield's dread- 
ful array 
Far, far I had roamed on a desolate 
track ; 
'Twas autumn, and sunshine arose on 
the way 
To the home of fathers, that wel- 
comed me back. 

I flew to the pleasant fields, traversed 
so oft 
In life's morning march, when my 
bosom was young ; 
I heard my own mountain-goats bleat- 
ing aloft, 
And knew the sweet strain that the 
corn-reapers sung. 

Then pledged we the wine cup, and 
fondly I swore 
From my home and my weeping 
friends never to part ; 
My little ones kissed me a thousand 
times o'er. 
And my wife sobbed aloud in her 
fulness of heart. 

"Stay, stay with us ! rest ; thou art 
weary and worn !" 
And fain was their war-broken sol- 
dier to stay ; 

But sorrow returned with the dawning 
of morn, 



And the voice in my dreaming ear 
melted away. 

Thomas Campbell 



THE LITTLE DRUMMER. 

'Tis of a little drummer 

The story I shall tell— 
Of how he marched to battle, 

And all that there befell. 
Out in the West with Lyon 

(For once that name was true), 
For whom the little drummer beat 
His rat-tat-too. 

Our army rose at midnight. 

Ten thousand men as one, 
Eacii slinging on his knapsack 

And snatching up his gun ; 
''Forwards and off they started, 

As all good soldiers do. 
When the little drummer beats for 
them 

The rat-tat-too. 

Across a rolling country. 

Where the mist began to rise. 
Past many a blackened farm-house. 

Till the sun was in the skies ; 
Then we met the rebel pickets. 

Who skirmished and withdrew, 
While the little drummer beat and 
beat 

The rat-tat-too. 

Along the wooded hollows 
The line of battle ran ; 



402 



LESSONvS OF LIKE, 



Our centre poured a volley, 
And the fight at once began ; 

For the rebels answered, shouting, 
And a shower of bullets flew ; 

But still the little drummer beat 
His raf-tat-too. 

He stood among his comrades. 
As they quickly formed in line. 

And "when they raised their muskets 
He watched the barrels shine. 

When the volley broke, he started. 
For war to him was new ; 

But still the little drummer beat 
His Tdt-fdt-too. 

It was a sight to see them, 

That early autumn day — 
Our soldiers in their blue coats. 

And the rebel ranks in gray, 
The smoke that rolled between them. 

The balls that whistled through, 
And the little drummer as he beat 
His Tdt-tat-too. 

His comrades dropped around him — 
By fives and tens they fell — 

Some pierced by Minnie bullets, 
Some torn \)y shot and shell. 

They played against our cannon, 
And a caisson's splinters flew. 

But still the little drummer beat 
His rat-tat-too. 

The right, the left, the centre — 

The fight was ever5r\^'here ; 
They pushed us here — we wavered ; 



We drove and broke them there. 
The gray-backs fixed their bayonets. 

And charged the coats of blue, 
But still the little drummer beat 
His rat-tat-too. 

"Where is our little drummer?" 
His nearest comrades say 

When the dreadful fight is over 
And the smoke has cleared away. 

As the rebel corps were scattering, 
He urged them to pursue. 

So furiously he beat and beat 
The rat-tat-too. 

He stood no more among them ; 

A bullet, as it sped. 
Had glanced and struck his ankle, 

And stretched him with the dead. 
He crawled behind a cannon. 

And pale and paler grew. 
But still the little drummer beat 
His rat-tat-too. 

They bore him to the surgeon — 

A busy man was he ; 
<'A drummer boy? what ails him?" 

His comrades answered, -'See !" 
As they took him from the stretcher 

A heavy breath he drew 
And his little fingers strove to beat 
The rat-tat-too. 

The ball had spent its fury ; 

"A scratch," the surgeon said 
As he wound the snowy bandage 

Which the lint was staining red ; 



how's my boy ? 



403 



"Oh, take me back with yon, 
For I know the men are missing me 
And the rat-tat-too !" 

Upon his comrade's shoulder 
They hfted him so grand. 

With his dusty drum before him 
And his drumsticks in his hand, 

To the fiery front of battle. 
That nearer, nearer drew. 

And evermore he beat and beat 
His rat-tat-too. 

The wounded, as he passed them. 
Looked up and gave a cheer. 

And one in dying blessed him, 
Betweon a smile and tear. 

And the gray-backs, they are flying 
Before the coats of blue. 

For whom the little drummer beats 
His rat-tat-too. 

When the West was red with sunset 

The last pursuit was o'er ; 
Brave Lyon rode the foremost, 

And looked the name he bore ; 
And before him on his saddle. 
As a weary child would do. 
Sat the little drummer fast asleep. 
With his rat-tat-too. 

Richard Henry Stoddard. 



BE A HERO. 

In the world's broad field of battle. 
In the bivouac of Life, 
Be not like dumb, driven cattle ! 
Be a hero in the strife. 

H. W, Longfellow. 



HOW'S MY BOY? 



"Ho, sailor of the sea ! 

How's my boy, my boy ?" 
"What's your boy's name, good wife, 

And in what ship sailed he "?" 

"My boy John — 

He that went to sea — 
Wliat care I for the ship sailor ? 

My boy's my boy to me, 

"You come back from sea. 

And not know my John '? 
I might as well have asked some lands- 
man 

Y^onder down in the town. 
There's not an ass in all the parish 

But he knows my John. 

"How's my boy — my boy? 

And unless j'ou let me know, 
I'll swear you are no sailor. 

Blue jacket or no. 
Brass buttons or no, sailor, 

Anchor and croA\ii or no ! 
Sure his ship was the Jolly Briton — " 

"Speak low, woman, speak low !'.' 
"And why should I speak low, sailor, 

About my own boy, John ? 
If I was loud as I am proud, 

I'd sing him over the town ! 
Why should I speak low, sailor ?" 

"That good ship went down !" 

"How's my boy — my boy? 

What care I for the ship, sailor ? 
"I must leave you now, old fellow" 



404 



LESSONS OF LIFE. 



I was never aboard her. 

Be she afloat, or be she aground, 

Sinking or swimming, I'll be bound, 

Her owners can afford her ! 
I say, how's my John?" 
"Every man on board went down, 

Every man aboard her," 
"How's my boy — my boy? 

What care I for the men, sailor? 

I'm not their mother — 
How's my boy — my boy ? 

Tell me of him, and no other ! 
How's my boy — my boy ?" 

Sidney Dobell. 



A FAREWELL. 

My fairest child, 1 have no song to 
give you; 
No lark could pipe to skies so dull 
and gray ; [you 

Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave 
For every day : 

Be good, sweet maid, and let who will 
be clever ; 
Do noble things, not dream them, 
all day long ; 
And so make hfe, death, and that vast 
Forever 

One grand, sweet song. 

CHABIiES KINGSLEY. 




On The Wing 



OH THE WING. 



THE MAGPIE'S LESSON. 



In early times, the story says, 

When birds could talk and lecture, 

A Magpie called her feathered friends 
To teach them architecture : 

" To build a nest, m}^ courteous 
friends," — 

They all began to chatter : 
" No need to teach us that, good 'Mag,' 

'Tis such an easy matter ! " 

" To build a nest," — Professor "Mag" 
Eesumed her speech demurely, — 

" First choose a well-forked bough, 
wherein 
The nest may sit securely." 

" Of course," said Jenny Wren. "Now 
cross 

Two sticks for the foundation." 
"Oh, all know that, " quoth Mr. "Eook," 

" Without this long oration." 

" Now bend some slender twigs to form 
The round sides of the dwelling." 

" A fool knows that," exclaimed the 
thrush, 
" Without a Magpie's telling." 



" Next take some wool and line the 
nest. 
And bind it well together." 
"AVhy, that's as clear," exclaimed the 
owl, 
" As stars in frosty weather !" 




While thus they talked. Professor 
"Mag" 

Her nest had half completed ! 
And, growing quite indignant now, 

To see how she was treated, 

" Ladies and gentlemen," she said, 
" I see you are all so clever, 

My lessons are superfluous, — 
I leave you then forever." 



407 



4o8 



ox THE WING. 



Away she flew, and left the birds 

Their folly to discover, 
Who now can build but half a nest, 

And cannot roof it over. 

The magpie sits beneath her roof, 
No rain nor hail can pelt her ; 

The others, brooding o'er their young. 
Themselves enjoy no shelter. 

No better fate do men deserve. 
When self-conceit can lead them 

Friendly instructions to despise. 
And think they do not need them. 



ANSWER TO A CHILD'S QUES- 
TION. 

Do you ask what the birds say ? The 

sparrow, the dove. 
The linnet, and thrush, say " I love 

and I love !" 
In the winter they're silent, the wind 

is so strong ; 
What it says I don't know, but it sings 

a loud Bong. 
But green leaves and blossoms and 

sunny warm weather. 
And singing and loving, all come 

back together. 
But the lark is so brimful of gladness 

and love, 
The green fields below him, the blue 

sky above. 



That he sings and he sings, and for 

ever sings he, 
" I love my love, and my love loves 

me." 

Samuel T. Coleridge. 



THE TRADES-BIRDS. 




HE swallow is a 

mason ; 
And underneath the 

eaves 
He builds a nest, 

and plasters it 
With mud, and, hay 

and leaves. 



The woodpecker is 
hard at work : 

A carpenter is he ; 

And you may find 
him hammering 

His house high up 
a tree. 





The bullfinch knows 

and practices 
The basketmaker's 

trade : 
See what a cradle 

for his young 
The little thing has 

made ! 



THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. 



409 



Of all the weavers 
that I know, 

The chaffinch is the 
best: 

High on the apple- 
tree he weaves 

A cosy little nest. 





The goldfinch is a 

fuller : 
A skillful workman 

he! 
Of wool and threads 

he makes a nest 
That you would like 

to see. 



The cuckoo laughs 

to see them work : 
" Not so, " he says, 

"we do : 
My wife and I take 

others' nests, 
And live at ease — cuckoo !" 

Julius Sturm. 




THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. 

A thousand and twenty singing birds 

Are chanting a matin-song. 
In the hapjjy tones and the unknown 

words 
That to Swiss little birds belong. 

Yet, shutting our eyes, we never would 
know 



If the woods of this far-away land 
Were other than ours, while musical so 
With a rapturous singing band. 

We'd never imagine a foreign tongue 
Is sounding such clear, sweet notes ; 

But rather be sure that the strains 
are sung 
By our own little songsters' throats. 

You wouldn't suspect that the meadow- 
lark, 
With his wings to the heavens set, 
Would only give heed to your voice, 
and hark 
If you called him an aloiiette. 

That the rosnignoV s song in the Switz- 
er's vale. 
With its melody pure and free. 
Would faint in the speech of the night- 
ingale ; 
You wouldn't believe it could be ! 

Nor would it, my darlings. You're 
right ! 3'ou're right ! 
One language the birds have — one; 
They use it by day, and they use it 
by night. 
They use it in shadow and sun. 

'Tis the language of love, the same, 
the same, 
Wherever its harmony grows ; 
The language of music that hasn't a 
name 
Save that which the whole world 
knows ! 




THE LANGUAGE OF IJIKDS. 



THE SINGING- LESSON. 



411 



So we'll listen together, with wonted 
ear, 
To the spring that is fully awake ; 
And our souls shall be wafted now 
there, now here — 
At home, or on Leman's Lake. 



And she hid from the moon. 
She wrung her claws, poor thing ! 

But was far too proud to weep ; 
She tucked her head under her 
wing, 

And pretended to be asleep. 




THE SINGING-LESSON. 



A nightingale made a mistake ; 

She sang a few notes out of tune 
Her heart was ready to break. 



A lark, arm in arm with a thrush. 
Came sauntering up to the place ; 

The nightingale felt herself blush. 
Though feathers hid her face. 

She knew they had heard her song, 



412 



ON THE WING. 



She felt them snicker and sneer ; 
She thought this Ufe was too long, 
And wished she could skij) a year. 

" Oh, Nightingale, " cooed a dove — 

"Oh, Nightingale, what's the use ? 
You bird of beauty and love. 

Why behave like a goose ? 
Don't skulk away from our sight, 

Like common, contemptible fowl ; 
You bird of joy and delight. 

Why behave like an owl ? 

" Only think of all you have done. 

Only think of all you can do ; 
A false note is really fun 

From such a bird as you. 
Lift up your proud little crest, 

Open 3'our musical beak ; 
Other birds have to do their best — 

Y^ou need only to speak." 

The nightingale shyly took 

Her head from under her wing. 
And, giving the dove a look. 

Straightway began to sing. 
There was never a bird could pass ; 

The night was divinely calm, 
And the people stood on the grass 

To hear that wonderful psalm. 

The nightingale did not care ; 

She only sang to the skies ; 
Her song ascended there, 

And there she fixed her eyes. 
The people that stood below 



She knew but little about ; 
And this story's a moral I know. 
If you'll try to find it out. 



Jean Ingelow. 




The tawny Eagle seats his \ \ 

callow brood sL.' .^^ 

High on the cliff, and feasts his young 

with blood : 
On Snowdon rocks, or Orkney's wide 

domain. 
Whose beetling cliffs o'er hang the 

Western main. 
The royal bird his lonely kingdom 

forms. 



THE THRUSH. 



41, 



Amidst the gathering clouds and sullen 

storms ; 
Through the wide waste of air he 

darts his sight, 
And holds his sounding pinions poised 

for flight ; 
With cruel eye premeditates the war, 
And marks his destined victim from 

afar : 
Descending in a whirlwind to the 

ground, 
His pinions like the rush of waters 

sound : 
The fairest of the fold he hears away, 
And to his nest compels the struggling 

prey ; 
He scorns the game hy meaner hun- 
ters tore. 
And dips his talons in no vulgar gore. 
Anna Letitia Bakbauld. 



THE THRUSH. 

Songster of the russet coat, 
Full and liquid is thy note ; 
Plain thy dress, hut great thy skill, 
Captivating at thy will. 

Small musician of the field, 
Near my bower thy tribute yi$ld. 
Little servant of the ear. 
Ply thy task, and never fear. 

I will learn from thee to praise 
God, the Author of my days ; 
I will learn from thee to sing. 




Christ, my Saviour and my King ; 
Learn to labor with my voice, 
Make the sinking heart rejoice. 



WHAT IS THAT, MOTHER? 

"What is that, mother?" 
The lark, my child. 
Tlie morn has but just looked out and 

smiled 
When he starts from his humble grassy 

nest. 
And is up and away, with the dew on 

his breast, 
And a hymn in his heart, to yon pure, 

bright sphere, 
To warble it out in his Maker's ear. 
Ever, my child, be thy morn's first 

lays 
Tuned, like the lark's, to thy Maker's 

praise. 



414 



ox THE WING. 



"What is that, mother?" 
The dove my son ; 
And that low, sweet voice, hke a wid- 
ow's moan. 




Is flowing out from her gentle breast, 
Constant and pure by that lonely nest, 
As the wave is poured from some crys- 
tal urn, 
For her distant dear one's quick re- 
turn. 
Ever, my son, be thou like the dove — 
In friendship as faithful, as constant 
in love. 

"What is that, mother?" 
The eagle, boy, 

Proudly careering his course with joy. 

Firm on his own mountain vigor re- 
lying, 

Breasting the dark storm, the red bolt 
defying ; 

His wing on the wind, and his eye on 
the sun, 

He swerves not a hair, ])ut bears on- 
ward, right on. 

Boy, may the eagle's flight ever be 
thine — 



Onward and upward, and true to the 
line ! . 

"What is that, mother?" 
The swan, my love ; 
He is floating down from his native 

grove. 
No loved one now, no nestling nigh, 
He is floating down by himself to die ; 
Death darkens his eye and unplumes 

his wings, 
Yet the sweetest song is the last he 

sings. 
Live so, my child, that when death 

shall come, 
Swanlike and sweet it may waft thee 

home. 

Geoege Washington Doane. 



ROBIN-REDBREASTS. 

Two robin-redbreasts built their nest 

Within a hollow tree ; 
The hen sat quietly at home. 







The cock sang merrily ; 
And all the little young ones said, 
"Wee-wee ! wee-wee ! wee-wee !" 



COME HERE, LITTLE ROBIN. 



415 



One (lay the sun was warm and 


And summer we soon shall be greet- 


brifiht, 


ing • 


And shining in the sky ; 


Then remember, sweet Robin, to sing 


Cock Eobin said, "My httle dears, 


me a song 


'Tis time you learned to fly." 


In return for the breakfast you're 


And all the little young ones said, 


eating. 


"I'll try! I'll try! I'll try !" 




I know a child, and who she is 


THE ROBIN'S SONG. 


I'll tell you by-and-hy, 
When mamma says "Do this" or 
"tha-t," 


I asked a sweet robin, one morning in 
May, 


She says, "What for?" and "Why?" 


Who sung in the apple tree over the 


She'd be a better child by far 

If she would say, "I'll try." 

Aunt Effie's Rhymes. 


way, 
What it was he was singing so sweetly 
about, 




For I'd tried a long while, and could 




rr>i\/rr uirnT? r ttttt t? t-jadtm 


not find out. 



Come here, little Robin, and don't be 
afraid, 
I would not hurt even a feather ; 
Come here, little Robin, and pick up 
some bread. 
To feed you this very cold weather. 

1 don't mean to hurt you, you poor 
little thing ; 
And Pussy-cat is not behind me ; 
So hop about pretty, and put down 
3^our wing, 
And pick up the crumbs, and don't 
mind me : 

Cold winter is come, ])ut it will not 
last long, 



" Why, I'm sure," he replied, " you 
cannot guess wrong ; 

Don't ye know I am singing a tem- 
perance song? 

' Teetotal,' oh ! that's the first word of 
my lay ; 

And then don't you see how I twitter 
away ? 

" 'Tis because I have just dipped my 

back in the spring. 
And brushed the fair face of the lake 

with m}^ wing ; 
Cold water ! cold water ! yes, that is 

my song. 
And I love to keep singing it all the 

day long !" 



4i6 



ON THE WING. 



THE BOY AND THE ROBIN. 


Go home, where your mate and your 




little ones dwell ; 


So now, pretty Eobin, you've come to 


Though I know where they are, yet I 


my door, 


never will tell ; 


I wonder you never have ventured 


Nobody shall injure the leaf -covered 


before ! 


nest. 


'Tis likely you thought I would do 


For sacred to me is the place of your 


you some harm. 


rest. 


But pray, sir, what cause could there 
be for alarm ? 


Adieu ! for you want to be flying away, 
And it would be too cruel to ask you 


You seem to be timid — I'd like to 


to stay; 


know why ; 


But come in the morning — come early, 


Did I ever hurt you *? what makes you 


and sing ; 


so shy? 


You shall see what I'll give you, sweet 


You shrewd little rogue ! I've a mind. 


warbler of spring. 


ere you go, 


Eev. F. C. Woodworth. 


To tell 3'ou a thing it concerns you to 




know. 
You think I have never discovered 


THE LITTLE MAIDEN AND THE 
LITTLE BIRD. 


your nest ; 
'Tis hid pretty snugly, that must be 
confessed ; 


" Little bird ! little bird ! come to me ! 
I have a green cage ready for thee ; 


Ha ! ha ! how the boughs are entwined 
all around ! 


Beauty-bright flowers I'll bring anew. 
And fresh, ripe cherries all wet with 


No wonder you thought it would never 


dew." 


be found. 


" Thanks, little maiden, for all thy 


You're as cunning a rogue as ever I 


care. 


knew ; 


But I love dearly the clear, cool air, 


And yet — ha ! ha ! ha ! — I'm as cun- 


And my snug little nest in the old oak 


ning as you? 


tree." 


I know all about your nice home on 


"Little bird ! little bird ! stay with me." 


the tree — 




'Twas nonsense to try and conceal it 


" Nay, little damsel ; away I'll fly 


from me. 


To greener fields and warmer sky ; 



THE BIRD AND THE MAID. 



417 



When spring returns with pattering I will he free as the rushing air, 

And sing of sunshine everywhere." 

Lydia Makia Child. 



rain, 
You'll hear my merry song again.' 



" Little bird ! little bird ! who'll guide 

thee 
Over the hills and over the sea ? 




THE BIRD AND THE MAID. 

There sat a bird on the elder-bush 

One beauteous morn in May, 
And a little girl 'neath the 
^ elder-bush 

That beauteous morn in May. 



The bird was still, while the 
, . , maiden sang, 

^l\l i \ And when she had done liis 
song out-rang ; 
And thus in the rays of the 

bright spring sun 
The bird and the maid sang 

P {VM^\^ on and on, 

^"l^ That beauteous morn in May. 

\nd what, I pray, sang the 
1 1 I ^^ bright bird there, 
:rW I M That beauteous morn in 
U May ? 

^ \nd what was the song of the 
\ / maiden fair, 



/"t" J^ 



'"'"'VT'^Wr^^ ^V*i*' "^^^^^ beauteous morn in May ? 

Toohsh one' come m the house to They were singing their thanks to God 

^^^J' above 

For I'm very sure you'll lose your way." For the bounteous gifts of His price- 
less love. 

"Ah no, little maiden ! God guides Oh, such songs of praise 

me Should be sung always, 

Over the hills and over the sea ; | Each bounteous morning in May. 



4ii 



ON THK WING. 



DUMPLING AND SPECKLE. 



Two downy little chickens, beneath 

their mother's wing, 
In Farmer Thrifty's barnyard came 

out one day in spring ; 




Golden, fluffy Dumpling minded well 

her mother. 
And if she found a dainty, shared it 

with her brother. 

She never ran away beyond her 

mother's call. 
And she never chased the flies, 

where she knew the grass was 

tall. 

When slanting shadows fell she scam- 
pered home to bed. 

And safe beneath her mother's wing, 
she hid her little head. 

Speckle, greedy Speckle, ate all that 

he could find ; 
His mother warned and warned him, 

but that he didn't mind. 
Each night he stayed out late, nor 

sought his home tmtil 
He heard afar off in the woods, the 

call of Whip-poor-will. 



One night he ate so much, he scarce 

could move at all, 
With slow and painful steps he walked 

beside the orchard wall. 
A rvish — a bound — a snap ! and 

Speckle — where was he ? 
Ask of the yellow pussy, who ate him 

up for tea ! 

Annabel, C. Andeews. 



THE BLACKBIRD. 

Come ye, come ye, to the green, green 

wood ; 
Loudly the blackbird is singing. 
The squirrel is feasting on blossom 

and bud, 




And the curling fern is springing : 
Here ye may sleep 
In the moss so deep. 
While the moon is so warm and !^o 
wearv, 



WHY BIRDIE BUILT HIGH, 



419 



And sweetly awake, 
As the sun through the brake 
Bids the faiivette and white-throat 

sing cheery. 
The quicken is tufted with 

blossom of snow, 
And is throwing its per- 
fume around it ; 
The wryneck replies to the 

cuckoo's halloo, 
For joy that again she has 
found it ; 
The jay's red breast 
"Peeps over her nest, 
In the midst of the crab- 
blossoms blushing ; 
And the call of the pheas- 
ant 
Is frequent and pleasant, 
"When all other calls are 
hushing. 

William Howitt. 



And the limbs are too weak for 
to dare 
Risk her fat little self, so 
and white ; 



pussy 
downv 



WHY BIRDIE BUILT 
HIGH. 



A wee little nest you could 

hold in your hand, 
"Why so high, so dizzy a 

height was chosen. 
Is just the question for 

baby and me. 
Baby thinks 'twas the safest place that 

could be, 
Away from the dreadful things of 

the night. 




And at times in the dark, when Ihe 
wind parts the leaves 
That like curtains hang above o'er 
the nest. 



420 



ON THE WING. 



The birdies can see all the stars in the 


And holdeth the stars and the lives of 


sky 


men 


As the}^ shining, pass from the east to 


And her own wee nest in the palm 


the west. 


of His hand. 


And was not that the happiest baby 




of all. 


THE EMPTY NEST. 


Who rocked on the top of the lofty 




tree ? 


We found it under the apple-tree. 


And the birds have no fear that the 


Torn from the bough where it used 


bough will break, 


to swing, 


With only a nestful of birdies wee. 


Softly rocking its babies three, 




Nestled under the mother's wing. 


But I see the danger of temj)est and 




blast. 


This is a leaf, all shrivelled and dry, 


Of slight brittle limbs, and the deep 


That once was a canopy overhead ; 


fearful fall 


Doesn't it almost make you cry 


Those birdies may get when the little 


To look at the poor, little, empty 


wings grow, 


bed? 


And they all get too large and the 




nest is too small. 


All the birdies have flown away : 




Birds must fly, or they wouldn't 


So I think that the mother-bird wanted 


have wings; 


to hold 


Don't you hope they'll come back some 


Her own little cares close up to 


day ? — 


God's eye. 


Nests without birdies are lonesome 


High up in the limbs as we would a 


things. 


prayer, 




And this is the reason and this is 


Deep in the mother's listening heart 


the why 


Drops the prattle with sudden sting, 




For lips may quiver and tears may 


That she builded her nest in the high 


start ; 


tree-top 


But birds must fly, or they wouldn't 


Not knowing He's everywhere o^■er 


have wings. 


the land, 


Emily Huntington Miller. 



WHAT ARE THEY DOING. 



421 



WHAT ARE THEY DOING. 



"Little sparrow, come here and say 
What you're doing all the day." 

"Oh, I flyover hedges and ditches to 

find 
A fat little worm or a fly to my mind ; 
And I carry it back to my own pretty 

nest 
YoY the dear little -pets that I warm 

with my breast ; 
For mitil I can teach them the way 

how to fly, 




If I did not feed them my darlings 

would die. 
How glad they all are when they see 

me come home ! 
And each of them chirps, "Give me 

some ! give me some !" 

"Little lamb, come here and say 
What you're doing all the day." 

"Long enough before you wake 
Breakfast I am glad to take 
In the meadow, eating up 



Daisy, cowslip, buttercup ; 
Then about the fields I play. 
Frisk and scamper all the day. 
When I'm thirsty I can drink 
Water at the river's brink ; 
When at night 1 go to sleep, 
By my mother I must keep : 
I am safe enough from cold 
At her side within the fold." 

"Little bee, come here and say 
What you're doing all the day." 

"Oh, every day, and all day long. 
Among the flowers j'ou hear my song " 
I creep in every bud I see, 
And all the honey is for me. 
I take it to the hive with care. 
And give it to my brothers there. 
That when tlie winter-time comes on, 
And all the flowers are dead and gone^ 
And the wild wind is cold and rough 
The busy bees may have enough." 

"Little fly, come here and say 
What you 're doing all the day." 

"Oh, I am a gay and merry fly; 
I never do anything — no, not I. 
I go where I like, and I stay where I 

please. 
In the heat of the sun or the shade ol 

the trees, 
()u the window-pane or the cupboard 

shelf, 
And I care for nothing except myself. 



422 



OX thp: wing. 



I cannot tell, it is very true, 


The dew's falling fast, and your fine 


When the winter comes what I mean 


speckled wings 


to do; 


Will flag with the close-clinging 


And I very much fear, when I'm get- 


damp. 


ting old, 




I shall starve with hunger or' die with 


Lady-bird, lady-bird ! fly away home ! 


cold." 


Good luck if you reach it last ! 




TO THE LADY BIRD. 



Lady-bird, lady-bird ! fly away home ! 
The field-mouse has gone to her 
nest, 
The daisies have shut up their sleepy 
eyes, 
And the bees and the birds are at 
rest, 

Lady-bird, lady-bird ! fly away home ! 
The glow-worm is lighting her lamp, 



The owl's come abroad, 
and the bat's on the 
roam. 
Sharp set from a 
Ramazan fast. 

Lady-bird, lady-bird ! fly 
away home ! 
The fairy bells tinkle 
afar ! 
Make haste, or they'll 
catch you, and har- 
ness you fast 
With a cobweb to 
Oberon's car. 

Lady-bird, lady-bird ! fly 
away home . 
To your house in the old willow tree. 
Where your children so dear have in- 
vited the ant 
And a few cosy neighbors to tea. 

Lady-bird, lady-bird ! fly away home ! 

And if not gobbled up on the way, 
Nor yoked by the fairies to Oberon's 
car, 
You're in luck ! — and that's all I've 
to say. 

Caroline Bowles Southet. 



A BIRD'S-EYE VIEW. 



423 



A BIRD'S-EYE VIEW. 

Quoth the boy : "I'll climb that tree, 

And bring do\Mi a nest I know." 
Quoth the girl : " I will not see 

Little birds defrauded so ! 
Cowardly their nests to take, 
And their little hearts to break, 

And their little nests to steal. 
Leave them happy for my sake ; 

Surely little birds can feel !" 

Quoth the boy : " My senses whirl ; 

Until now I never heard 
Of the wisdom of a girl 

Or the feelings of a bird ! 
Pretty Mrs. Solomon, 
Tell me what you reckon on 

When you prate in such a strain ; 
If I wring their necks anon, 

Certainly they might feel — pain." 

Quoth the girl : "I watch them talk, 

Making love and making fun. 
In the pretty ash tree walk, 

When my daily task is done ; 
In their little eyes I find 
They are very fond and kind. 

Every change of song or voice 
Plainly proveth to my mind 

They can suffer and rejoice." 

And the little Robin-bird 

( Nice brown back and crimson 
breast,) 
All the conversation heard. 

Sitting tremblinfr in his nest. 



" What a world," he cried, "of l)liss — 
Full of birds and girls — were this ! 

Blithe we'd answer to their call ; 
But a great mistake it is 

Boys were ever made at all." 



WHO STOLE THE BIRD'S NEST? 

" To-whit ! to-whit ! to-whee ! 
Will you listen to me ? 
WTio stole four eggs I laid. 
And the nice nest I made '?" 




'; ;'- \' ^ " 



" Not I," said the cow, " Moo-oo ! 
Such a thing I'd never do. 
I gave you a wisp of hay. 
But didn't take your nest away. 
Not I," said the cow, "Moo-oo ! 
Such a thing I'd never do." 

" To-whit ! to-whit ! to-whee 
Will you listen to me "? 
Who stole four eggs I laid. 
And the nice nest I made '?" 

" Bob-o-link ! Bob-o-link ! 
Now what do vou think ? 



424 



ox THE WING. 



Who stole a nest away 
From the plum tree to-day ?" 

" Not I," said the dog, "Bow, wow ! 
I would not be so mean, I vow ! 
I gave hairs the nest to make, 
But the nest I did not take. 
Not I," said the dog, "Bow, wow! 
I would not be so mean, I vow !" 

" To-whit ! to-whit ! to-whee ! 
Will you listen to me ? 
Who stole four eggs I laid, 
And the nice nest I made '?" 

" Bob-o-link ! Bob-o-link ! 
Now what do you think ? 
Who stole a nest away 
From the plum tree to-day ? " 

" Coo, coo ! coo, coo ! coo, coo ! 
Let me speak a word too ; 
Who stole that pretty nest 
From little Yellow-breast ?" 

" Not I," said the sheep ; " oh no ! 
I wouldn't treat a poor bird so ; 
I gave wool the nest to line. 
But the nest was none of mine. 
"Baa ! baa !" said the sheep ; '-olino, 
I wouldn't treat a poor bird so." 

" To-whit ! to-whit ! to-whee ! 
Will you listen to me ? 
Who stole four eggs I laid. 
And the nice nest I made ?" 

" Bob-o-link ! Bob-o-hnk ! 
Now what do you think? 



Who stole a nest away 
From the plum tree to-day "?" 

" Coo, coo ! coo, coo ! coo, coo ! 
Let me speak a word too ; 
Who stole that pretty nest 
From little Yehow-breast ?" 

" Caw ! caw !" cried the crow, 
" I should like to know 
What thief took away 
A bird's nest to-day ?" 

" Cluck ! cluck !" said the hen ; 
• " Don't ask me again. 
Why, I haven't a chick' 
That would do such a trick. 
W^e all gave her a feather. 
And she wove them together ; 
I'd scorn to intrude 
On her and her brood. 
Cluck! cluck!" said the hen ; 
"Don't ask me again." 

"Chirr-a-whirr ! chirr-a-whirr ! 
We will make a great stir ! 
Let us find out his name. 
And all cry 'for shame !' " 

"I would not rol) a bird," 

Said little Mary Green ; 
"I think I never heard 

Of anything so mean." 
'■ 'Tis very cruel, too," 

Said little Alice Neal ; 
" I wonder if he knew 

How sad the bird would feel ?' 



WHAT THE vSPARROW CHIRRUPS. 



425 



A little boy hung down his head, 
And went and hid behind the bed ; 
For he stole that pretty nest 
From poor little Yellow-breast : 
And lie felt so full of shame 
He didn't like to tell his name. 

Ltdia Maria Child. 



WHAT THE SPARROW CHIRPS. 

I am only a little sparrow, 
A bird of low degree ; 




My life is of little value, 

But the dear Lord cares for me. 
He gave me a coat of feathers ; 

It is very plain, I know, 
With never a speck of crimson, 

For it was not made for show. 



But it keeps me warm in winter. 
And it shields me from the rain ; 

Were it bordered with gold or purple 
Perhaps it would make me vain. 

By and by, when spring-time comes, 

I'll build myself a nest. 
With many a chirp of pleasure, 

In the spot I like the best. 

And He will give me wisdom 

To build it of leaves most brown ; 

Soft it must be for my birdies, 
And so I will line it with down. 

I have no barn or storehouse, 

I neither sow nor reap ; 
God gives me a sparrow's portion, 

But never a seed to keep. 

If my meal is sometimes scanty. 
Close picking makes it sweet ; 

I have always enough to feed me. 
And "life is more than meat." 

I know there are many sparrows — 
All over the world we are found — 

But our heavenly Father knoweth 
When one of us falls to the ground. 

Though small, we are never forgotten ; 

Though weak, we are never afraid ; 
For we know that the dear Lord keep- 
eth 

The life of the creatures he made. 

I fly through the thickest forests, 

I light on many a spray ; 
I have no chart or compass. 

But I never lose my way. 



426 



ON THE WING. 



And I fold my wings at twilight, 
Wherever I happen to be ; 

For the Father is always watching, 
And no harm will come to me. 

I am only a little sparrow, 

A bird of low degree. 
But I know that the Father loves me. 

Have you less faith than we ? 



THE SPARROW'S NEST. 



Nay, only look what I have found ! 
A sparrow's nest upon the ground — 
A sparrow's nest, as you may see. 
Blown out of yonder old elm tree. 




And what a medley thing it is ! 
I never saw a thing like this — 
Not neatly wove with tender care 
Of silvery moss and shining hair ; 

But put together — odds and ends 
Picked up from enemies and friends ; 
See ! bits of thread and bits of rag, • 
Just like a little rubbish-bag ! 



Here is a scrap of red and bro^vn, 
Like the old washer-woman's gown. 
And here is muslin pink and green, 
And bits of calico between. 

Oh, never thinks the lady fair, 
As she goes by with dainty air, 
How the pert sparrow overhead 
Has robbed her gown to make its 
bed! 

See ! hair of dog and fur of cat, 

And rovings of a worsted mat. 

And shreds of silk, and many a 

feather, 
Compacted cunningly together! 

Well, here has hoarding been, and 

hiving. 
And not a little good contriving, 
Before a home of peace and ease 
Was fashioned out of things like these ! 

Think, had these odds and ends been 

brought 
To some wise man renowned for 

thought — 
Some man, of men a very gem — 
Pray, what could he have done with 

them ? 

If we had said, "Here, sir, we bring 
You many a worthless little thing. 
Just bits and scraps, so very small 
That they have scarcely size at all ; 

"And out of these you must contrive 
A dwelling large enough for five, 



bird's nests. 



427 



Neat, warm, and snug, with comfort 

stored. 
Where five small things may lodge 

and board ;" 

How would the man of learning vast 
Have been astonished and aghast ! 
And vowed that such a thing had been 

ne'er heard of, thought of, much 

less seen ! 

Ah ! man of learning, you are wrong ! 
Instinct is more than wisdom strong ; 
And He who made the sparrow taught 
This skill beyond your reach of thought. 

And here, in this uncostly nest, 
Five little creatures have been blest ; 
Nor have kings known, in palaces. 
Half their contentedness in this, 
Poor, simple dwelling as it is ! 

Maey Howitt. 



BIRDS' NESTS. 

The skylark's nest among the grass 
And waving corn is found ; 

The robin's on a shady bank. 
With oak-leaves strewed around. 

The wren builds in an ivied thorn 

Or old and ruined wall ; 
The mossy nest, so covered in. 

You scarce can see at all. 

The martins build their nests of clay 
In rows beneath the eaves ; 

The silvery lichens, moss and hair 
The chaffinch interweaves. 



The cuckoo makes no nest at all, 
But through the wood she strays 

Until she finds one snug and warm. 
And there her eggs she lays. 

The sparrow has a nest of hay. 
With feathers warmly lined ; 

The ring-dove's careless nest of sticks 
On lofty trees we find. 




Rooks build together in a wood. 

And often disagree ; 
The owl will build inside a barn 

Or in a hollow tree. 

The blackbird's nest of grass and mud 
In bush and bank is found ; 

The lapwing's darkly- spotted eggs 
Are laid upon the ground. 

The magpie's nest is made with thorns 
In leafless tree or hedge ; 



428 



ON THE WING. 



The wild-duck and the water-hen 
Build by the water's edge. 

Birds build their nests from j'ear to 
year 

According to their kind — 
Some very neat and beautiful ; 

Some simpler ones we find. 

The habits of each little bird, 

And all its patient skill, 
Are surely taught by God Himself, 

And ordered by His will. 



THE CROW'S CHILDREN. 

A huntsman, bearing his gun afield, 

Went whistling merrily, 
When he heard the blackest of black 
crows 

Call out from a withered tree : 

"You are going to kill the thievish 
birds. 

And I would if I were you ; 
But you mustn't touch my family. 

Whatever else you do." 

"I'm only going to kill the birds 
That are eating up my crop ; 

And if your young ones do such things. 
Be sure they'll have to stop." 

"Oh," said the crow, "my children 
Are the best ones ever born ; 

There isn't one among them all 
Would steal a grain of corn." 



" But how shall I know which ones 
they are? 
Do they resemble you ?" 
" Oh no, " said the crow ; "they're the 
prettiest birds, 
And the whitest that ever flew !" 

So off went the sportsman whistling. 
And off, too, went his gun ; 

And its startling echoes never ceased 
Again till the day was done. 




And the old crow sat untroubled, 
Cawing away in her nook. 

For she said, " He'll never kill my 
birds. 
Since I told him how they look. 

"Now there's the hawk, my neigh- 
bor; 

She'll see what she will see soon ; 
And that saucy whistling blackbird 

May have to change his tune !" 



THE GREAT OWL. 



429 



When, lo ! she saw the hunter 
Taking his homeward track, 

With a string of crows as long as his 
gun 
Hanging down his back. 

"Alack ! alack ! " said the mother, 
"What in the world have you done *? 

You promised to spare my pretty 
birds. 
And you've killed them ever}^ one !" 

"Your birds!" said the puzzled hun- 
ter ; 
"Why, I found them in my corn; 



THE GREAT BROWN OWL. 

The brown owl sits in the ivy-bush, . 

And she looketh wondrous wise, 
With a horny beak beneath her cowl. 

And a pair of large round eyes. 

She sat all day on the self-same spray 

From sunrise till sunset ; 
And the dim gray light it was all too 
bright 

For the owl to see in 3'et. 

"Jenny Owlet, Jenny Owlet," said a 
merry little bird. 




And besides, they are black and ugly 
As any that ever were born !" 

"Get out of my sight, you stupid !" 
Said the angriest of crows ; 

"How good and fair her children are 
There's none but a parent knows !" 

"Ah ! I see, I see," said the hunter, 

"But not as you do, quite ; 
It takes a mother to be so blind 

She can't tell black from white !" 

Phcebe Gary. | 



"They say you're wondrous wise ; 
But I don't think you see, though 
you're looking at me 
With your large, round shining eyes." 

But night came soon, and the pale 
white moon 
Rolled high up in the skies ; 
And the great brown owl flew away in 
her cowl, 
WTth her large, round, shining eyes. 

AuntEffie's Rhymes. 



430 



ON THE WING. 



ROBERT OF LINCOLN. 

Merrily swinging on brier and weed, 
Near to the nest of his Httle dame, 
Over the mountain-side or mead, 
Robert of Lincoln is telling his 
name : 

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink. 
Snug and safe is that nest of ours, 
Hidden among the summer flowers. 
Chee, chee, ehee. 







Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed. 
Wearing a bright black wedding- 
coat ; 
White on his shoulders, and white his 
crest ; 
Hear him call in his merry note, 
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink, 
Look what a nice new coat is mine ! 
Sure there was never a bird so fine. 
Chee, chee, chee. 



Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife. 
Pretty and quiet, with plain brown 
wings, 
Passing at home a patient life. 

Broods in the grass while her hus- 
band sings, 

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink. 
Brood, kind creature ! you need not 

fear 
Thieves and robbers while I am here. 
Chee, chee, chee. 

Modest and shy as a nun is she ; 

One weak chirp is her only note ; 
Braggart, and prince of braggarts .is 
he. 
Pouring boasts from his little 
throat, 

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink. 
Never was I afraid of man ; 
Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you 
can ! 

Chee, chee, chee. 

Six white eggs on a bed of hay. 

Flecked with purple, a pretty 
sight ! 
There, as the mother sits all day, 
Robert is singing with all his 
might, 

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink, 
Nice good wife that never goes out, 
Keeping house while I frolic about ! 
Chee, chee, chee. 



THE SNOW-BIRD S vSONG. 



431 



Soon as the little ones chip the shell, 
Six wide months are open for food ; 
Kobert of Lincoln bestirs him well, 
Gathering seeds for the hungry 
brood : 

Bob-o'-link, bo])-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink. 
This new life is likel_v to be • 
Hard for a gay young fellow like 
me. 

Cliee, chee, chee. 

Eobert of Lincoln at length is made 
Sober with work and silent with 
care ; 
Off is his holiday garment laid. 
Half forgotten that merry air, 
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink, 
Nobody knows, but my mate and I, 
AVbere our nest and our nestlings 
lie. 

Chee, chee, chee. 

Summer wanes ; the children are 
grown ; 
Fun and frolic no more he knows ; 
Eobert of Lincoln's a humdrum 
crone ; 
Off he flies, and we sing as he goes, 
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink, 
When you can pipe that merry old 

strain, 
Robert of Lincoln, come back' again. 
Chee, chee, chee. 

William Cullen Bryant. 



THE SNOW-BIRD'S SONG. 

The ground was all covered with snow 

one day, 
And two little sisters were 1)US3' at 

play. 
When a snow-bird was sitting close by 

on a tree, 
And merrily singing his chick-a-dee- 

dee, 
Chick-a-dee-dee, chick-a-dee-dee, 
And merrily singing his chick-a-dee- 



He had not been singing that tune 
very long 

Ere Emily heard him, so loud was his 
song : 

"Oh, sister, look out of the window!" 
said she, 

"Here's a dear little bird singing 
chick-a-dee-dee ; 
Chick-a-dee-dee, chick-a-dee-dee, 

Here's a dear little bird singing chick- 
a-dee-dee. 

"Oh, mother, do get him some stock- 
ings and shoes, 

And a nice little frock, and a hat if 
he choose ; 

I wish he'd come into the parlor and 
see 

How warm we would make him, poor 
chick-a-dee-dee ! 
Chick-a-dee-dee, chick-a-dee-dee. 

How warm we would make him, poor 
chick-a-dee-dee ! " 



432 



ON THE WING. 



"There is One, m}^ dear child, though 
I cannot tell who, 

Has clothed me already, and warm 
enough too ; 

Good morning! — Oh, who are so 
happy as we ?" 

And away he went, singing his cliick- 
a-dee-dee ; 
Chick-a-dee-dee, chick-a-dee-dee, 

And away he went, singing his chick- 
a-dee-dee. 

F. C. WOODWORTH. 



THE CLOCKING HEN. 



"Will you take a walk with me. 

My little wife, to-day ? 
There's barley in the barley-field, 

And hay-seed in the hay." 
'Oh, thank you !" said the clocking 
hen, 

"I've something else to do ; 
I'm busy sitting on my eggs — 

I cannot walk with you." 

"Clock, clock, clock, clock !" 

Said the clocking hen ; 
"My little chicks will soon be hatched ; 

I'll think about it then." 
The clocking hen sat on her nest — 

She made it in the hay — 
And warm and snug beneath her breast 

A dozen white eggs lay. 

Crack, crack, went all the eggs — 

Out dropt the chickens small. 
"Clock !" said the clockhig hen • 



"Now I have you all. 
Come along, my little chicks ! 

I'll take a walk with you.''' 
"Hollo !" said the barn-door cock, 

"Cock-a-doodle-do !" 

Aunt Effie's Rhymes. 




THE DOVES. 

Pretty doves, so blithely ranging 

Up and dovNTi the street ; 
Glossy throats all bright hues changing 

Little scarlet feet ! 

Pretty doves ! among the daisies 

They should coo and flit ! 
All these toilsome, noisy places 

Seem for them unfit. 



THE CHICKENS. 



433 



Yet amidst our human plodding, 

They must love to be ; 
With their little heads a-nodding, 

Busier than we. 

Close to hoof and wheel they hover, 

Glancing right and left, 
Sure some treasure to discover ; 

Rapid, shy, and deft. 

Friendliest of feathered creatures, 

In their timid guise ; 
Wisdom's little silent teachers, 

Praying us he wise. 

Fluttering at footsteps careless, 

Danger swift to flee, 
Lowly, trusting, faithful, fearless, — 

Oh, that such were we ! 

In the world and yet not of it. 

Ready to take wing, — 
By this lesson could we profit 

It were everything ! 



THE CHICKENS. 



See ! the chickens round the gate 
For their morning portion wait ; 
Fill the basket from the store, 
Let us open wide the door ; 
Throw out crumbs and scatter seed, 
Let the hungry chickens feed. 
Call them : now how fast they run, 
Gladly, quickly, every one ! 
Eager, busy hen and chick, 
Every little morsel pick ; 



See the hen, with callow brood, 
To her young how kind and good I 
With what care their steps she 

leads ! 
Them, and not herself, she feeds. 
Picking here and picking there, 
Where the morsels nicest are. 

As she calls they flock around, 
Bustling all along the ground ; 
When their daily labors cease, 
And at night they rest in peace, 
All the little things 




Nestle close beneath her wings ; 
There she keeps them safe and 

warm, 
Free from fear and free from harm. 

Now, my little child, attend : 
Your almighty Father, Friend, 
Though unseen l)y mortal eye, 
Watches o'er you from on high ; 
As the hen her chickens leads, 
Shelters, cherishes, and feeds. 
So by Him your feet are led. 
Over you His wings are spread. 



434 



ON THE WING. 



THE MOTHERLESS TURKEYS. 

The wliite turkey was dead ! the white 

turkey Avas dead ! 
How the news through the barnyard 

went flying ! 
Of a mother bereft, four small turkeys 

were left, 
And their case for assistance was cry- 



E'en the peacock respectfully folded 

his tail 
As a suitable symbol of sorrow, 
And his plainer wife said, " Now the 

old bird is dead. 
Who will tend her poor chicks on the 

morrow '? 

And when evening around them comes 

dreary and chill. 
Who above them will watchfully 

hover ? " 
"Two each night I will tuck 'neatli 

my wings," said the duck, 
"Though I've eight of my own I must 

cover." 

"I have so much to do ! For the bugs 

and the worms 
In the garden 'tis tiresome pickin' ; 
I have nothing to spare — for my own 

I must care," 
Said the hen with one chicken. 

"How I wish," said the goose, "I could 
be of some use, 



For my heart is with love over-brim- 
ming! 

The next morning that's fine they 
shall go with my nine 

Little yellow-backed goslings out 
swimming." 

"I will do what I can," the old Dork- 
ing put in, 

"And for help they may call upon me 
too. 

Though I've ten of my own that are 
only half grown. 

And a great deal of trouble to see to. 

But those poor little things, they are 

all heads and wings. 
And their bones through their featliers 

are stickin' ! " 
"Very hard it may be, but oh don't 

come to me ! " 
Said the hen with one chicken. 

"Half my care, I suppose, there is 

nobody knows — 
I'm the most overburdened of mothers ! 
They must learn, little elves, how to 

scratch for themselves, 
And not seek to depend upon others. " 

She went by with a cluck, and the 
goose to the duck 

Exclaimed, in surprise, "Well, I never !"' 

Said the duck, "I declare, those who 
have the least care, 

You will find, are complaining for- 
ever ! 



REMINDING THE HEN. 



435 



And when all things appear to look 

threatening and drear, 
And when troubles your pathway are 

thick in, 
For aid in your woe, oh beware how 

you go 
To a hen with one chicken !" 

Marian Douglas. 



REMINDING THE HEN. 

"It's well I ran into the garden," 

Said Eddie, his face all aglow ; 

"For what do you think, mamma, 
happened ? 

You never will guess it, I know. 

The little brown hen was there cluck- 
ing * 

*Cut-cut!' she'd say, quick as a wink. 

Then 'Cut-cut' again, only slower; 

And then she would stop short and 
think. 

"And then she would say it all over — 

She did look so mad and so vext ; 

For, mamma, ck) you know, she'd for- 
gotten 

The word she ought to cluck next. 

So /said 'Ca-daiv-cut,' 'Ca-daiv-cnt,' 

As loud and as strong as I could. 

And she looked 'round at me very 
thankful 

I tell you, it made her feel good. 

"Then she flapped, and said, 'Cut- 
cut — cn-ddic-cnt !' 



She remembered just how it went, 

then. 
But it's well I ran into the garden, — 
She might never have clucked right 
asain!" 




BUTTERFLIES. 



Two golden butterflies, hither, thither 

flying, 

Zig-zag and round about, every blos- 
som trying ; 

Flilting now together, now awhile they 
sever ; 

Pretty golden butterflies, will you play 
forever ? 

My little Goldenhair, almost like a 

fairy, 
Kivals the butterflies in their Sittings 

airy ; 



436 



ox THE WIXG. 



All their flying follows, through the 

nodding daisies, 
Still cannot catch them in their pretty 

mazes. 

Dear Golden-hutterfly, through the 
meadow dancing, 

With your flying tangled curls in the 
sunshine glancing. 

Keep time with the hutterflies, gold- 
winged, moving ever, — 

Play on, all three dearies ! Your now 
is forever. 

Little know the butterflies of what 

comes to-morrow. 
Little knows my Butterfly of a thought 

of sorrow. 
God sees that each childhood has its 

time of daisies 
And of golden butterflies in their 

pretty mazes. 



THE FLY. 



Baby bye, 

Here's a fly ; 
Let us watch him, you and I 

How he crawls 

Up the walls ! 

Y^et he never falls. 
I believe, with six such legs. 
You and I could walk on eggs ! 

There he goes 

On his toes, 

Ticlding baby's nose ! 



Spots of red 

Dot his head, 
Piainbows on his back are spread I 

That small speck 

Is his neck : 

See him nod and beck. 
I can show you, if you choose, 
Where to look to find his shoes — 

Three small pairs 

Made of hairs ; 

These he always wears ! 

Black and brown 

Is his gown ; 
He can wear it upside down. 

It is laced 

Bound his waist : 

I admire his tast«. 
Yet, though tight his clothes are 

made, 
He will lose them, I'm afraid. 

If to-night 

He gets a sight 

Of the candle-light. 

In the sun 

Webs are spun : 
What if he gets into one ? 

When it rains, 

He complains 

On the window-panes. 
Tongues to talk have you and I ; 
God has given the little fly 

No such things ; 

So he sings 

With his buzzing wings. 



THE SONG OF THE BEE. 



437 



He can eat 


Flies can see 


Bread and meat : 


More than we ; 


There's a mouth between his feet ! 


So, how bright their eyes must 


On his back 


be! 


Is a sack 


Little fly. 


Like a peddler's pack. 


Ope your eye ; 


Does the baby understand '? 


Spiders are near by ! 


Then the fly shall kiss her hand ! 


For a secret I can tell : 


Put a crumb 


Spiders never treat flies well ! 


On her thumb ; 


Then away ! 


Maybe he will come. 


Do not stay ; 


Catch him ? No ! 
Let him go ; 


Little fly, good-day ! 

Theodore Tilton. 


Never hurt an insect so. 




But, no doubt, 


THE SONG OF THE BEE, 


He flies out 




•Just to gad about. 


Buzz-z-z-z-z-z, buzz ! 


Now you see his wings of silk 


This is the song of the bee ; 


Drabbled in the baby's milk. 


His legs are of yellow. 


Fie! oh fie! 


A jolly good fellow 


Foolish fly ! 


And yet a great worker is he. 


How will he get dry ? 


In days that are sunny 


All wet flies 
Twist their thighs ; 


He's getting his honey ; 
In days that are cloudy 


Then they wipe their heads and 
eyes. 
Cats, you know, 
Wash just so ; 


He's making his wax; 
On pinks and on lilies. 


And gay daffodillies. 
And columbine blossoms 


Then their whiskers grow. 


He levies a tax. 


Flies have hair too short to e:)uil) ; 


Buzz-z-z-z-z-z, buzz ! 


S3 they fly bareheaded home ; 


The sweet-smelling clover 


But the gnat 


He, humming, hangs over ; 


Wears a hat ; 


The scent of the roses 


Do you believe tliat ? 


Makes fragrant his wings ; 



438 



ON THE WING. 



He never gets lazy : 
From thistle and daisy, 
And weeds of the meadow, 
Some treasure he brings. 

Buzz-z-z-z-z-z, buzz ! 
From morning's first gray light, 
Till fading of daylight, 
He's singing and toiling 

The summer day through. 
Oh ! we may get weary. 
And think work is dreary ; 
'Tis harder by far 

To have nothing to do ! 

—Marian Douglas. 



A COBWEB MADE TO ORDER. 



A hungry spider made a web 

Of thread so very fine. 
Your tiny fingers scarce could feel 

The little tender line. 
Bound about and round about, 

And round about it spun, 
Straight across, and back again. 

Until the web was done. 

Oh, what a pretty, shining web 

It was when it was done ! 
The little flies all came to see 

It hanging in the sun. 
Bound about and round about. 

And round about they danced, 
Across the web, and back again, 

They darted and they gleamed. 



The hungry spider sat and watched 

The happy little flies; 
It saw all round about its head. 

It had so many eyes. 
Bound about and round about, 

And round about they go. 
Across the web, and back again. 

Now high — now low. 

"I'm hungry, very hungry," 

Said the spider to a fly. 
"If you were caught within the wel) 

You very soon should die." 
But round about and round about. 

And round about once more. 
Across the web, and back again, 

They flitted as before. 

For all the flies were much too wise 
To venture near the spider ; 

They flapped their little wings and 
flew 
In circles rather wider. 

Bound about and round about. 
And round about went they. 

Across the web, and back again, 

And then they flew away. 

Aunt Effie's Rhymes. 



THE BEES. 



Oh, mother dear, pray tell me where 

The bees in winter stay ? 
The flowers are gone they feed upon. 

So sweet in summer's dav. 



THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE AXT. 



439 



My child, they live within the hive, 

And have enough to eat ; 
Amid the storm they're clean and 
"warm, 

Their food is hone}'' sweet. 
Say, mother dear, how came it there ? 

Did father feed them so '? 
I see no way in winter's day 

That honey has to grow. 

No, no, my child ; in summer mild 

The bees laid up their store 
Of honey-drops in little cups, 

Till they would want no more. 
In cups, 3^ou said — how are they 
made "? 

Are they as large as ours ? 
Oh, no; they're all made nice and 
small. 

Of wax found in the flowers. 

Our summer's day, to work and pla}^ 

Is now in mercy given. 
And we must strive, long as we live, 

To lay up stores in heaven. 

Hastings' Nursery Songs. 



THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE 
ANT. 

A grasshopper having sung 
The summer long. 
When the wintry wind blew 
Found her comforts few — 
No house from the snow and sleet 
To suard her • 



Not a single bit to eat 

In her larder. 
Neither worm-chop nor fly-leg ; 
The dainty dame must starve or beg. 
Hungry, she goes to her neighbor ant 
With her sad tale of want : 
"Fray lend me from your store, 
Till the winter is o'er : 
On my faith, I will pay 
Ptound interest, besides the loan." 

The ant — bad lender, I must own — 
Doubting much of the pay day, 
Asks of the borrowing lady, 
"What did you do last summer?" 

"Night and day to every comer 
I sang, if you please." 

"Sang! — do you say? 
Then finish out your play — 
Dance now at your ease. " 



THE WASP AND THE BEE. 

A wasp met a bee that was buzzing by, 
And he said, "Little cousin, c.in you 

tell me why 
You are loved so much better by peo- 
ple than I ? 

"My back shines as bright and yellow 

as gold. 
And my shape is most elegant, too, to 

behold ; 
Yet nobody likes me for that, I am 

told." 



440 



ON THE WING. 



Ah, cousin," the bee said, "'tis all" 

very true ; 
But if I had half as much mischief 

to do, 
Indeed they would love me no better 

than you. 

" You have a fine shape and a deli- 
cate wing ; 

They own you are handsome ; but 
then there's one thing 

They cannot put up with, and that is 
your sting. 

"My coat is quite homely and plain, 

as you see. 
Yet nobody ever is angry with me, 
Because I'm a humble and innocent 

bee." 

From this little story let people be- 
ware. 

Because, like the wasp, if ill-natured 
they are, 

They will never be loved if they're 
ever so fair. 



LITTLE HOP-O'-MY THUMB. 

Two little midgets hard at play ; 
Hop-a-Avay ! skip-a-way ! all the day. 



Into the grass and the honey-sweet 

clover. 
Jumping and dancing, over and over, 
Now in the sun, and now back in the 

shade. 
Two happy sprites — of nothing afraid. 

Pussy sits watching them out in the 

sun. 
"Let 'em hoj) now — but I'll catch one !" 
Winks she, and blinks, yet watches the 

hopping to see — 
Poor little Hop-o'-my-thumbs — Oh, 

dear me ! — 
Till one little grasshopper skips off on 

his toes, 
And his long legs just carry him to 

pussy-cat's nose ! 

Snap! and a swallow! — he's gone 

from our view ! 
Jump, little brother, or she'll have 

you too ! 
No more frisking together out in the sun» 
Only solitary hops, unhappy and 

alone. 
Cruel old cat ! I'll shut her in the 

house — 
But then, I suppose, she'll eat up a 

mouse. 




Animals, 



ANIMALS. 




THE LION. 

Lion, thou are girt with might ! 
King by uncontested right ; 
Strength and majesty and pride 
Are in thee personified ! * 
Slavish doubt or timid fear 
Never come thy spirit near ; 
What it is to fly, or bow 
To a mightier than thou, 
Never has been known to thee, 
Creature terrible and free ! 

Power the Mightiest gave the lion 
Sinews like to bands of iron ; 
Gave him force which never failed. 
Gave him heart that never quailed ; 



Triple-mailed coat of steel. 
Plates of brass from head to heel. 
Less defensive were in wearing 
Than the lion's heart of daring ; 
Nor could towers of strength impart 
Trust like that which keeps his heart. 

What are things to match with him "? 
Serpents old, and strong, and grim. 
Seas upon a desert shore. 
Mountain-wildernesses hoar. 
Night and storm, and earthquakes dire 
Thawless frost and raging fire — 
All that's strong and stern and dark. 
All that doth not miss its mark. 
All that makes man's nature tremble, 
Doth the desert kin"; resemble ! 



443 



444 



ANIMALS. 



Wlien he sends his roaring forth. 
Silence falls upon the earth ; 
For the creatures, great and small, 
Know his terror-breathing call 
And, as if death pursued. 
Leave to him a solitude. 

Lion, thou art made to dwell. 
In hot lands intractable, 
And thyself, the sun, the sand. 
Are a tyrannous triple-band. 
Lion-king and desert throne. 
All the region is your own. 



THE TIGER. 

Tiger, tiger, burning bright 
In the forests of the night, 
What immortal hand or eye 
Could frame thy fearful symmetry ! 

In what distant deeps or skies 
Burnt the fires of thine eyes ? 
On what wings dare he aspire? 
What the hand dare seize thy fire ? 

And what shoulder, and what art, 
Could twist the sinews of thy heart ? 
And when thy heart began to beat, 
What dread hand formed thy dread 
feet? 

What the hammer, what the chain ? 
In what furnace was thy brain ? 
What the anvil ? what dread grasp 
Dare its deadly terrors clasp ? 



When the stars threw down their 

spears. 
And watered heaven with their tears, 
Did He smile his work to see ? 
Did he who .made the lamb make thee ? 

Tiger, tiger, burning bright, 
In the forests of the night. 
What immortal hand or eye 
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry ? 

William Blake. 



GRIZZLY BEAR. 

Coward, of heroic size. 
In whose lazy muscles lies 
Strength we fear, and yet despise ; 
Savage, — whose relentless tusks 
Are content with acorn husks ; 
Robber, — whose exploits ne'er soared 
O'er the bee's or squirrel's hoard ; 
Whiskered chin, and feeble nose, 
Claws of steel, on baby toes, — 
Here, in solitude and shade, 
Shambling-, shulifling, plantigrade, 
Be thy courses undismayed ! 

Here, where Nature makes thy bed. 
Let thy rude, half -human tread 

Point to hidden Indian springs. 
Lost in fern and fragrant grasses 

Hovered o'er by timid wings. 
Where the wood-duck lightly passes. 
Where the wild bee holds her sweets — 
Epicurean retreats, 
Fit for thee, and better than 
Fearful spoils of dangerous man. 



THE CAMEL. 



445 



In thy fat-jowl(^d deviltry, 
Friar Tuck shall live in thee ; 
Thou may'st levy tithe and dole ; 

Thou shalt spread the woodland 
cheer, 
From the pilgrim taking toll ; 

Match thy cunning with his fear, 
Eat and drink and have thy fill ; 
Yet remain an outlaw still ! 

BlJKT HiltTR. 



Thou dost lend to him thy speed, 
And through wilds of trackless sand 
In the hot Arabian land, 
Where no rock its shadow throws. 
Where no pleasant water flows. 
Where the hot air is not stirred 
By the wing of singing bird, — 
There thou goest, untired and meek. 
Day by day, and week by week, 
Bearing freight of precious things — 




THE CAMEL. 



Camel, thou art good and mild, 
Mightst be guided by a child ; 
Thou wast made for usefulness, 
Man to comfort and to bless ; 
Thou dost clothe him, thou dost feed. 



Silks for merchants, gold for kings, 
Pearls of Ormuz, riches rare, 
Damascene and Indian ware — 
Bale on bale, and heap on heap, 
Freighted like a costly ship ! 

When the red simoon comes near. 
Camel, dost thou know no fear? 



446 



ANIMALS. 



When the desert sands uprise, 
Flammg crimson to the skies, 
And, hke pillared giants strong, 
Stalk the dreary waste along. 
Bringing Death unto his prey, 
Does not thy good heart give way ? 
Camel, no ! thou dost for man 
All thy generous nature can ; 
Thou dost lend to him thy speed 
In that awful time of need ; 
And when the simoon goes by 
Teachest him to close his eye. 
And bow down before the blast. 
Till the purple death has passed ! 

And when week by week is gone. 
And the traveler journeys on 
Feebly — when his strength is fled. 
And his hope and heart seem dead, 
Camel, thou dost turn thine eye 
On him kindly, soothingly. 
As if cheeringly to say, 
"Journey on for this one day ! 
Do not let thy heart despond ; 
There is water yet beyond, 
I can scent it in the air ; 
Do not let thy heart despair ! " 
And thou guid'st the traveler there. 

Camel, thou art good and mild, 
Mightst be guided by a child ; 
Thou wast made for usefulness, 
Man to comfort and to bless ; 
And these desert wastes must be 
Untracked regions but for thee ! 

Maky Howitt. 



THE ELEPHANT AND THE CHILD. 

The arching trees above a path 

Had formed a pleasant shade, 
And here to screen him while he slept, 
#»An infant boy was laid. 

His mother near him gathered fruit, 
But soon with fear she cried. 

For, slowly moving down the path, 
An elephant she spied. 

The sticks he crushed beneath his 
feet 

Had waked the sleeping child, 
Who pushed aside the waving curls, 

And looked at him and smiled. 

The mother could not reach the spot — 
With fear she held her breath — 

And there in agony she stood 
To see him crushed to death. 

His heavy foot the monster held 

A while al)ove the boy. 
Who laughed to see it moving there, 

And clapped his hands with joy. 

The mother saw it reach the ground, 

Beyond her infant son, 
And watched till every foot was safe 

Across the little one. 

She caught the infant from the ground, 
For there, unharmed, he lay, 

And could have thanked the noble 
beast, 
Who slowly stalked away. 



THE DYING STAG. 



447 



THE DYING STAG. 

Low in a grassy dingle he was laid. 

With wild wood primroses befreckled 
low. 

Over his head the wanton shadows 
play'd 

Of a young olive, that her boughs so 
spread, 

As with her leaves she seem'd to 
crown his head. 

And here he came, pierced by a fatal 
blow, 

As in a wood he walk'd, securely feed- 
in cr • 

And feeling death swim in his endless 
bleeding, 

His heavy head his fainting strength 
exceeding, 

Bade farewell to the woods that round 
him wave. 

While tears from drooping flowers be- 
dew his turfy grave. 

Giles Fletcher. 



She stroked her whiskers with her 
paws, 

Looked timidly around 
With open eyes, and ears erect 

That caught the smallest sound. 

The field-mouse rustled in the grass, 

The squirrel in the trees. 
But Puss was not at all afraid 

Of common sounds like these. 



THE LITTLE HARE. 

Beyond the palings of the park 
A hare had made her form, 

Beneath a drooping fern, that gave 
A shelter snug and warm. 

She slept until the daylight came, 
And all things were awake, 

And then the hare, with noiseless step, 
Crept softly from the brake. 




She frisked and gambolled with de- 
light, 

And cropped a leaf or two 
Of clover, and of tender grass. 

That glistened in the dew. 

What was it, then, that made her start, 

And run away so fast ? 
She heard the distant sound of hounds , 

She heard the huntman's blast. 



448 



ANIMALS. 



Hoy ! — ^tally-ho ! — hoy ! — tally-ho ! 

The hounds are in full cry ; 
Ehew ! ehew ! — in scarlet coats 

The men are sweeping by. 

So off she set with a spring and a 

bound, 
Over the meadows and open ground, 
Faster than hunter and faster than 

hound, 
And on and on, till she lost the sound. 
And away went the little hare. 

AUNT Effie's Rhymes. 




He has outslept the winter, ventures 

forth, 
To frisk a while and bask in the warm 

sun, 
The squirrel, flippant, pert, and full 

of play ; 
He sees me, and at once, swift as a 

bird. 
Ascends the neighboring beech, there 

whisks his brush. 
And perks his ears, and stamps and 

cries aloud. 
With all the prettiness of feign'd alarm. 
And anger insignificantly fierce. 

William Cowper. 



THE SQUIRREL. 

Drawn from his refuge in some lonely 

elm. 
That age or injury has hollowed deep. 
Where, on his bed of wool and matted 

leaves. 



THE MOUNTAIN AND THE 
SQUIRREL. 

The mountain and the squirrel 

Had a quarrel, 

And the former called the latter "Little 

prig!" 
Bun replied, 

" You are doubtless very big. 
But all sorts of things and weather 
Must be taken in together 
To make up a year 
And a sphere, 
And I think it no disgrace 
To occupy my place. 
If I'm not as large as you. 
You are not so small as I, 
And not half so spry ; 
I'll not deny you make 



THE Arab's farewell to his horse. 



449 



A very pretty squirrel track. 

Talents differ ; all is well and wisely 

put; 
If I cannot carry forests on my back, 
Neither can you crack a nut." 

Ralph Waldo Emekso.v. 



The farther that thou fliest now, so far 

am I behind ; 
The stranger hath thy bridle-rein — 

thy master hath his gold — 
Fleet-limbed and beautiful, farewell ; 
thou'rt soltl, my steed, thou'rt sokl. 




THE ARAB'S FAREWELL TO HIS 
HORSE. 

My beautiful ! My beautiful ! that 

standest meekly by, 
With thy proudly-arched and glossy 

neck and dark and fiery eye. 
Fret not to roam the desert now, with 

all thy winged speed ; 
I may not mount on thee again — 

thou'rt sold, my Arab steed ! 
Fret not with that impatient hoof — 

snuff not the breezy wind — 



Farewell ! those free, untired limbs 

full many a mile must roam 
To reach the chill and wintry sky 

which clouds the stranger's home ; 
Some other hand, less fond, must now 

thy corn and bed prepare, 
Thy silky mane, I braided once, must 

be another's care ! 
The morning sun shall dawn again, 

but never more with thee 
Shall I gallop through the desert paths 

where we were wont to be ; 



450 



ANIMALS. 



Evening shall darken on the earth, 
and o'er the sandy plain 

Some other steed, with slower step, 
shall bear me home again. 

Yes, thou must go ! the wild, free 

breeze, the brilliant sun and sky, 
Thy master's home, — from all of these 

my exiled one must fly ; 
Thy proud dark eye will grow less 

proud, thy step become less fleet, 
And vainly shalt thou arch thy neck 

thy master's hand to meet. 
Only in sleep shall I behold that dark 

eye, glancing bright ; — 
Only in sleep shall hear again that 

step so firm and light ; 
And when I raise my dreaming arm 

to check or cheer thy speed, 
Then must I, starting, wake to feel, — 

thou'rt sold, my Arab steed ! 

Ah ! rudely then, unseen by me, 

some cruel hand may chide. 
Till foam-wreaths lie, like crested 

waves, along thy panting side : 
And the rich blood that's in thee 

swells, in thy indignant pain, 
Till careless eyes, which rest on thee, 

may count each started vein. 

Will they ill-use thee ? If I thought 
— but no, it cannot be — 

Thou art so swift, yet easy curbed ; so 
gentle, yet so free : 

And yet, if haply, when thou'rt gone, 
my lonely heart should yearn — 



Can the hand which casts thee from 
it now command thee to return ? 

Ileturn ! Alas ! my x\rab steed ! what 

shall thy master do 
AVhen thou, who wast his all of joy, 

hast vanished from his view ? 
When the dim distance cheats mine eye, 

and through the gathering tears 
Thy bright form, for a moment, like 

the false mirage appears ; 
Slow and unmounted shall I roam, 

with weary footsteps alone. 
Where, with fleet step and joyous 

bound, thou oft hast borne me on ; 
And, sitting down by that green well, 

I'll pause and sadly think, 
"It was here he bowed his glossy neck 

when last I saw him drink !" 

When last I saw thee drink! Away! 

the fevered dream is o'er — 
I could not live a day and know that 

we should meet no more ! 
They tempted me, my beautiful ! for 

hunger's power is strong — 
They tempted me, my beautiful ! but 

I have loved too long. 
Who said I had given thee up? 

Who said that thou wast sold? 
'Tis false, 'tis false ! my Arab steed, 

I fling them back their gold ! 
Thus, thus, I leap upon thy back 

and scour the distant plains ; 
Away ! who overtakes us now shall 

claim thee for his pains ! 

Caroline Nortno. 



THE SQUIRREL. 



451 



THE SQUIRREL. 

Little brown squirrel, pray what do 

you eat ? 
What had you for dinner to-day ? 
"Nuts, beautiful nuts, so nice and so 

sweet, 
I gather them off the tall trees in the 

wood, 
And eat all the kernels I find that 

are good. 
And then throw the hard shells 

away." 

"Little brown squirrel, but what do 
you do 
When the season for nuts is o'er?" 

"I gather ripe nuts all the long sum- 
mer through. 

And hide them so deep in a hole in 
the ground ; 

Then when the dark winter again has 
come round 
1 have plenty still laid up in store." 

Dear little reader, I wonder if 
you 
Are laying in food for your mind ? 

You should seek what is good and in- 
structive and true, 

You should gain all the knowledge 
that ought to be known. 

That when the bright days of your 
childhood are Hown 
You may be of some use to man- 
kind. 



THE BLOOD HORSE. 



Gamarra is a dainty steed, 
Strong, black, and of a noble breed. 
Full of fire, and full of bone. 
With all his line of fathers known ; 
Fine his nose, his nostrils thin, 
But blown abroad by the pride 

within ! 
His mane is like a river flowing, 
And his eyes like embers glowing 
In the darkness of the night, 
And his pace as swift as light. 

Look — how round his straining throat 
Grace and shifting beauty float ; 
Sinewy strength is in his reins. 
And the red blood gallops through his 

veins, — 
Richer, redder, never ran 
Through the boasting heart of man. 
He can trace his lineage higher 
Than the Bourbon dare aspire, — 
Douglas, Guzman, or the Guelph, 
Or O'Brien's blood itself ! 

He, who hath no peer, was born 
Here, upon a red March morn ; 
But his famous fathers dead 
Were Arabs all, and Arab-bred, 
And the last of that great line 
Trod like one of a race divine ! 
And yet — he was but friend to one, 
Who fed him at the set of sun 
By some lone fountain fringed with 
green ; 



452 



ANIMALS. 



With him, a roving Bedouin, 
He hved (none else would he obey 
Through all the hot Arabian day), 
And died untamed upon the sands 
Where Balkh amidst the desert stands ! 

Bakky Cornwall. 



THE BONNIE MILK COW. 



"Moo ! moo ! pretty lady !" 
Bairnies want their supper now, 




Other cows go dry, they tell ; 
Hawkie ne'er was known to fail. 
But aye she fills the foaming pail — 
"Proo ! Hawkie ! proo !" 

Best of butter, best of cheese, 

"Proo ! Hawkie ! proo !'' 
That well the daintiest may please, 

Yields my .gentle cow ; 
When the good wife stirs the tea. 
Sweeter cream there cannot be — 

Such curds and whey 
you'll seldom see ; 
"Proo ! Hawkie ! proo !" 
At.exaxder Smabt. 



Lowing in the twilight hour. 

Comes my bonnie cow. 
Buttercups and clover green. 
All day long her feast has been ; 
She comes laden home at e'en — 

She is coming now. 

Bairnies for their porridge fret — 

"Proo, Hawkie! proo!" 
And milk must have their mouths to 
wet 

Sweet and warm from you. 



THANK YOU, PRETTY 
COW. 

Thank you, pretty cow, 

that made 
Pleasant milk to soak my 

bread, 
Every day and every night. 
Warm and sweet and 
fresh and white. 

Do not chew the hemlock rank 
Growing on the weedy bank. 
But the yellow cowslips eat ; 
They will make it very sweet. 

Where the bubbling water flows, 
Where the puq^le violet grows. 
Where the grass is fresh and fine. 
Pretty cow, go there and dine. 

Jane Taylok. 



THE cow-boy's song. 



453 



THE COW-BOY'S SONG. 


When all the green pastures are cov- 




ered with snow ? 


"Mooly cow, mooly cow, home from 


You go to the barn, and we feed you 


the wood. 


with hay, 


They sent me to fetch you as fast as 


And the maid goes to milk you there 


I could. 


every day ; 


The sun has gone down : it is time to 


She pats you, she loves you, she 


go home ; 


strokes your sleek hide, 


Mooly cow, mooly cow, why don't 


She speaks to you kindly and sits by 


you come? 


your side ; 


Your udders are full, and the milk- 


Then come along home, pretty mooly 


maid is there, 


cow, do !" 


And the children all waiting their sup- 


The mooly cow only said, "Moo-o-o !" 


per to share. 




I have let the long bars down ; why 


"Mooly cow, mooly cow, whisking your 


don't you pass through ?" 


tail. 


The mooly cow only said, "Moo-o-o !" 


The milkmaid is waiting, I say, with 




her pail ; 


"Mooly cow, mooly cow, have you 


She tucks up her petticoats, tidy and 


not been 


neat. 


Kegaling all day where the pastures 


And places the three-legged stool for 


are green? 


her seat. 


No doubt it was pleasant, dear mooly, 


What can you be staring at, mooly ? 


to see 


You know 


The clear-running brook and the wide- 


That we ought to have gone home an 


spreading tree. 


hour ago. 


The clover to crop and the streamlet 


How dark it is growing ! Oh, what 


to wade, 


shall I do?" 


To drink the cool water and lie in the 


The mooly cow only said, "Moo-o-o !" 


shade ; 


Ansa M. Wells. 


But now it is night : they are waiting 




for you." 


NURSERY SONG. 


The mooly cow only said, "Moo-o-o !" 






As I walked over the hill one day, 


"Mooly cow, mooly cow, where do you 


I listened, and heard a mother sheep 


go 


say, 



454 



ANIMALS. 



"In all the green world there is nothing 

so sweet 
As my little lammie with his nimble 
feet; 
With his eye so bright, 
And his wool so white, 
Oh, he is my darling, my heart's de- 
light !" 



"My kittens, with tails so cunningly 

curled, 
Are the prettiest things that can be in 
the world. 
The bird on the tree. 
And the old ewe she, 
May love their babies exceedingly ; 
But I love my kittens there, 
Under the rocking chair. 
I love my kittens with all my might, 
I love them at morning, noon and 
night. 




And the mother sheep and her little 

one 
Side by side lay down in the sun ; 
And they went to sleep on the hillside 

warm, 
While my little lammie lies here on 

my arm. 

I went to the kitchen, and what did I 

see 
But the old gray cat with her kittens 

three ! 
I heard her whispering soft; said 

she, 



Now I'll take up my kitties, the kit- 
ties I love, 

And we'll lie down together beneath 
the warm stove." 

Let the kittens sleep under the stove 
so warm, 

While my little darling lies here on 
my arm. 

I went to the yard, and I saw the old 

hen 
Go clucking about with her chickens 

ten; 



PRETTY SHEEP. 



455 



She clucked and she scratched and 

she bustled away, 
And what do you think I heard the 

hen say? 
I heard her say, "The sun never did 

shine 
On anything like to these chickens of 

mine. 
You may hunt the full moon and the 

stars, if you please, 
But you never will find ten such 

chickens as these. 
My dear, downy darlings, my sweet 

little things. 
Come, nestle now cosily under my 

wings." 
So the hen said. 
And the chickens all sped 
As fast as they could to their nice 

feather bed. 
And there let them sleep, in their 

feathers so warm, 

While my little chick lies here on my 

arm. 

Mrs. Cartek 



PRETTY SHEEP. 

"Pretty sheep, now tell me why 
In the sunny field you lie. 
Doing nothing all the day ? — 
Make yourself of use, I pray." 

"Don't you see the wool that grows 
On my back to make your clothes ? 
Cold, ah, very cold you'd be 
If you had no wool from me. 



"Soon the merry spring is past, 
And the farmer comes at last ; 

Cuts my woolly fleece away 




For your coat in wintry day. 
Little master, this is why 
In the pleasant field I lie." 



THE LITTLE BOY AND THE 
SHEEP. 



Lazy sheep, pray tell me why 
In the pleasant field 3^ou lie. 
Eating grass and daisies white 
From the morning till the nicflit : 
Everything can something do. 
But what kind of use are you '? 

Nay, m}' little master, nay. 
Do not serve me so, I pray ; 
Don't you see the wool that grows 
On my back to make your clothes ? 
Cold, ah, very cold, you'd be 
If you had not wool from me. 

True, it seems a pleasant thing 
Nipping daisies in the spring, 
But what chilly nights I pass 



456 



ANIMALS. 



On the cold and dewy grass, 
Or pick my scanty dinner where 
All the ground is brown and bare ! 

Then the farmer comes at last, 
When the merry spring is past, 
Cuts my woolly fleece away 
For your coat in wintry day. 
Little master, this is why 
In the pleasant fields I lie. 

Ann Tatloe. 



Little lamb, I'll tell thee ; 

Little lamb, I'll tell thee : 
He is called by thy name. 
For He calls himself a lamb. 
He is meek and He is mild ; 
He became a little child : 
I a child, and thou a lamb, 
We are called by his name. 

Little lamb, God bless thee ! 

Little lamb, God bless thee ! 



William Blaze 




THE LAMB. 

Little lamb, who made thee ? 

Dost thou know who made thee, 
Gave thee life, and made thee feed 
By the stream and o'er the mead ? 
Gave thee clothing of delight, — 
Softest clothing, woolly, bright ? 
Gave thee such a tender voice. 
Making all the vales rejoice ? 

Little lamb, who made thee ? 

Dost thou know who made thee ? 



THE TWO FRIENDS. 

My dog and I are faithful friends ; 

We read and play together ; 
We tramp across the hills and fields. 

When it is pleasant weather. 

And when from school with eager 
haste 

I come along the street, 
He hurries on with bounding step, 

My glad return to greet. 




THE TWO FBIENDS. 



457 



458 



ANIMALS. 



Then how he frisks along the road, 
And jumps up in my face ! 

And if I let him steal a kiss, 
I'm sure it's no disgrace. 

Oh, had he but the gift of speech 

But for a single day. 
How dearly should I love to hear 

The funny things he'd say ! 



And if I live when you have gone, 
I'll write your history too. 

Susan Jewett. 



THIS DOG OF MINE. 



This dog of mine is kind and true. 
His honest eyes with friendship 
shine ; 






r^i^-jf 



r 







t:\. 




%i^*ir / 



— t ■—*: -^ 



Yet, though he cannot say a word 

As human beings can. 
He knows and thinks as much as I, 

Or any other man. 

And what he knows, and thinks, and 
feels 

Is written in his eye ; 
My faithful dog cannot deceive, 

And never told a lie. 

Come here, good fellow, while I read 
What other dogs can do ; 



A better dog you never knew. 



Believe me, than this dog of mine. 
My will to him is more than law — 

He is my subject, I his king ; 
At my command he'll shake a paw, 

Fetch, carry, beg, do anything. 



OLD WATCH TO THE MOON. 

Bow, wow, wow ! 
Out to their posts the stars come now, 
And we must begin — the Moon and I — 



OLD WATCH TO THE MOON. 



459 



Our still night watch ; she in the silver 


But, tell me. Moon, are faith and love 


sky, 


in vain ? 


While down low in the dewy grass I lie. 


Will there not come a time when all 


Bow, wow, wow ! 


is plain ? 


Within the dark house the dear ones 


Bow, wow, wow ! 


sleep now — 


I hear the dear ones talking soft and low 


And close I sit all through the silent 


Of some fair land where they journey 


night 


soon, 




With my heart as full as the Moon's 

of light — 
They trust old Watch and sleep, and 

they do right. 

Bow, wow, wow ! 
0, Moon so near to heaven, 0, 

you 
Must know ! — I have no words to 

speak my pain — 



Where all shall gain some longed-for 

boon — 
And slidll I not he ivitk them there, 

O, Moon ? 

Bow, wow, wow ! 
I shall tell them there that I loved 

them so ! 
What if I did wrong in the Old-Time 

Land, 



460 



ANIMALS. 



Where they used to blame me with 
word and hand? 

It was only — / could not under- 
stand. 



THE DOG OF ST. BERNARD'S. 

One stormy night, upon the Alps, 

A traveler weak and old, 
Walked sadly on through 

ice and snow, ^-^ 

And shivered with the ^^ ^ . 
cold. '•^^^^^ 

His eyes were dim with f^^j A 
weariness, N^^r, ^ 

His steps were short and ^m\ \ 
slow ; f« ^1 5 ' 

At length he laid him down 
to sleep 
Upon a bed of snov/. 

Before he closed his aching 
eyes. 
He heard a cheerful bark ; 
A faithful dog was by his 
side 
To guide him through the 
dark. 

And soon beside the fire he 
stood. 

And earnestly he prayed 
For those who trained that noble 
dog 
And sent him to his aid. 



CHOOSING A KITTEN. 



There were five, and they found them 

in the hay — 
Five little kittens, stowed away 
So snug and warm 
And far from harm 
That, had it not been for the chil- 
dren's pia3% 
They'd have lived in secret to this day. 

'1 — •rfM»' 












Jack put the yellow one in his hat ; 
The black one nimble, the white one 
fat, 

He claimed beside. 



pussy's class. 



461 



Then Teddy cried : 

"I speak for this !" and " I speak for 
that !" 

(None left, you see, for the poor okl 
cat!) 

Old Pussy had thought herself so wise, 

But what can you hide from the chil- 
dren's eyes? 




"So beautiful''" said 

The breathless Ted, 
"Thej^'re all asleep, and all of a size !" 
And they bore to the house the won- 
drous prize. 

Did mamma smile ? Ah, no ! she 

frowned ; 
And the rest of the children gathered 

round ; 



And Teddy heard 

The dreadful word : 
" 'Tis very fortunate they w^ere found — 
Keep one ; but the others must be 
drowned !" 

Then each would choose ! So down 
they sat 

'Twas this one first, and 
then 'twas that ; 
Each making choice 
With an eager voice, 
Of the white or the gray, 
the shm or the fat — 
Just which he chanced to 
be looking at, 

Ted said, at last: "We 

can't spare none !" 
(His grammar was poor, 
but his tactics won.) 
"We'll hide them away 
' .' Again in the hay ! 
' J Put two in your hat and 
] ') run, Jack, run ! 

y-^JH We'll save them all!" And 
it was done. 



PUSSY'S CLASS. 

"Now, children," said Puss, as she 

shook her head, 
"It is time your morning lesson was 

said." 
So her kittens drew near with footsteps 

slow. 



462 



ANIMALS. 



And sat down before her, all in a 
row. 

"Attention, class !" said the cat-mam- 
ma, 

"And tell me quick where your noses 
are." 

At this all the kittens sniffed the air 

As though it were filled with a perfume 
rare. 

"Now what do you say when you want 

a drink?" 
The kittens waited a moment to think, 
And then the answer came clear and 

loud — 
You ought to have heard how those 

kittens meowed ! 

"Very well. 'Tis the same, with a 

sharper tone, 
When you want a fish or a bit of bone ; 
Now what do you say when children 

are good?" — 
And the kittens purred as soft as they 

could. 

"And what do you do when children 
are bad — 

Wlien they tease and pull?" Each 
kitty looked sad. 

"Pooh!" said their mother, "that isn't 
enough ; 

You must use your claws when chil- 
dren are rough. 

"And where are your claws? no, no 
my dear" 



(As she took up a paw). See ! they're 

hidden here ;" 
Then all the kittens crowded about 
To see their sharp little claws brought 

out. 

They felt quite sure they should never 

need 
To use such weapons — oh, no indeed ! 
But their wise mamma gave a pussy's 

"Phsaw !" 
And boxed their ears with her softest 

paw. 

"Now, 'Sptiss !' as hard as you can," 

she said ; 
But every kitten hung down its head ; 
" 'Sptiss !' I say," cried the mother cat, 
But they said "Oh, mammy, we can't 

do that !" 

"Then go and play," said the fond 
mamma ; 

"What sweet little idiots kittens are ! 

Ah well ! I was once the same, I sup- 
pose." 

And she looked very wise and rubbed 

her nose. 

Mapes Dodge. 



THE NAUGHTY CAT. 



LITTLE JACK. 



'Tis such a naughty, naughty cat ! 
Old Tab, that's owned by aunty Gray ; 
She growls, and spits, and shows her 
claws, 



THE NAUGHTY CAT. 



463 



As sharp as needles in her paws ; 
And, if I try with her to play, 
She always seems so full of spite, 
She's sure to scratch me or to bite. 



Now, when I see her, "Scat, scat, scat !' 
I mean to say, "you naughty cat !" 

LITTLE JANE. 

What, call my poor old Tabby cross ! 




My hands, — they were a frightful sight 
When I came home last Saturday. 
I'm sure that she would be no loss, 
If she were killed, she is so cross ; 



I'm sure she's very good with me; 
For, when / go to aunty Gray's, 
She always close beside me stays. 
If I sit down, she climbs my knee. 



464 



ANIMALS. 



And rubs her head against my cheek, 
And acts as though she'd hke to 

speak, 
And say she wants my friend to be. 
I'd rather have her for my own 
Than all the cats I've ever known ; 
Black, yellow, Maltese, large and 

small 
Old Tab's the nicest of them all. 

JAMES. 

Yes, Tabby is a knowing cat. 

When you have been at aunty Gray's, 

She's proved you both, and learned 

your ways ; 
She finds that Jack would never fail 
To try and swing her by the tail, 
While Jane will softly stroke her fur ; 
So she will answer by a purr, 
To show Jane's gentle touch she likes. 
But Jack, with her sharp claws, she 

strikes. 
My mother says we ought to treat 
W^ith love each living thing we meet, 
And even pussy-cats can tell 
Who are the ones that use them well. 

MABIAN DdUGLAS. 



PUSS PUNISHED. 

Oh, naughty puss ! you must not play 
And romp with Susie thus, I say ; 
And spoil her clothes and ruffles too. 
And make her quite a fright — you do. 

Shame ! puss, to treat Susie so ! 
The "simple thing that cannot sew. 



And mend her clothes when they 

are torn, , 
Or run away when thus forloi'n. 

My mother tells me 'tis unkind 
To treat the helpless thus ; so mind 
If you repeat your tricks, old cat, 
Your ears shall pay for it — that's 
flat. 

I LIKE LITTLE PUSSY. 

I like little Pussy, 

Her coat is so warm ; 
And if I don't hurt her 

She'll do me no harm. 
So I'll not pull her tail, 

Nor drive her awa}^ 
But Pussy and I 

Very gently will play; 
She shall sit by my side. 

And I'll give her some food ; 
And she'll love me because 

I am gentle and good. 

I'll pat little Pussy, 

And then she will purr, 
And thus show her thanks 

For my kindness to her ; 
I'll not pinch her ears. 

Nor tread on her paw, 
Lest I should provoke her 

To use her sharp claw ; 
I never will vet. her, 

Nor make her displeased, 
For Pussy don't like 

To be worried or teased. 

Jane Taylor. 




PUSS PUNISHED. 

465 



466 



ANIMALS. 



MY PUSSY. 

Ob, here is Miss Pussy ; 

She's drinking her milk ; 
Her coat is as soft 

And as glossy as silk. 

She sips it all up 

With her little lap-lap ; 
Then, wiping her whiskers, 

Lies down for a nap. 

My kittie is gentle, 

She loves me right well ; 
And how funny her play is 

I'm sure I can't tell. 



THREE LITTLE KITTENS. 

Three little kittens lost their mittens ; 
And they hegan to cry, 
"0 mother dear. 
We very much fear 
That we have lost our mittens !" 
"Lost your mittens ! 
You naughty kittens ! 
Then you shall have no pie." 

Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow ! 
"No, you shall have no pie." 

Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow ! 

The three little kittens found their 
mittens ; 
And they began to cry, 
"0 mother dear, 
See here, see here ! 
See, we have found our mittens !" 



"Put on your mittens, 
Y'^ou silly kittens, 
And you may have some pie." 
Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r! 
"Oh, let us have the pie !" 

Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r ! 

The three little kittens put on their 
mittens. 
And soon ate up the pie. 
"0 mother dear, . 
We greatly fear 




That we have soiled our mittens !" 

"Soiled your mittens ! 

You naughty kittens !" 
Then they began to sigh, 

Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow ! 
Then they began to sigh, 

Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow ! 

The three litttle kittens washed their 
mittens. 
And hung them out to dry. 
"0 mother dear, 
Do you not hear 
That we have washed our mittens?" 
"Washed your mittens ! 



THE QUARRELSOME KITTENS. 



467 



Oil, you're good kittens ! 
But I smeii a rat ciose by." 
Husli ! liusli ! mee-ow, mee-ow ! 
We smeii a rat ciose by. 

Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow ! 

Mes. Follen. 



THE QUARRELSOlViE KITTENS. 



Two little Ijittens, 

One stormy night, 
Began to quarrei, 

And tlien to figiit. 

One had a mouse. 

And the other iiad none ; 
And that's tiie way 

Tlie quarrei begun. 

*-'I'ii iiave tiiat mouse," 
Said tlie biggest cat. 

"You'ii liave tliat mouse ? 
We'ii see about that !" 

<'I wiii iiave that mouse," 
Said tlie tortoise-shell ; 

And, spitting and scratching, 
On her sister slie fell. 

The old lady took 
The sweeping broom, 

And swept them both 
Plight out of the room. 

The ground was covered 

Thick with snow ; 
They had lost the mouse. 

And had nowhere to go. 



So they lay and shivered 

Beside the door, 
Till the old lady finished 

Sweeping the floor. 

And then they crept in 

As quiet as mice. 
All wet with snow. 

And cold as ice ; 

And found it much better, 
Tliat stormy night, 

To lie by the fire, 

Than quarrel and fight. 









R 





TWENTY FROGS AT SCHOOL 



Twenty froggies went to school, 
Down beside a rushy pool ; 
Twenty little coats of green, 
Twenty vests all white and clean. 
"We must be in time," said they; 
"First we study then we jDlay ; 
That is how we keep the rule 
When we froggies go to school." 



468 



ANIMALS. 



Master bull-frog, grave and stern, 
Called the classes in their turn ; 
Taught them how to nobly strive. 
Likewise how to leap and dive ; 
From his seat upon the log 
Showed them how to say "Ker-chog !" 
Also, how to dodge a blow 
From the sticks which bad boys throw. 



Twenty fi'oggies grew up fast ; 
Bull-frogs they became at last ; 
Not one dunce among the lot, 
Not one lesson they forgot. 
Polished in a high degree, 
As each froggie ought to be, 
Now they sit on other logs. 
Teaching other little frogs. 




Trees and Flowers 



TREES AHD FLOWERS. 




THE WORLD. 

Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful 

World, 
With the wonderful water around you 

curled, 
And the wonderful grass on your 

breast — 
World, you are beautifully dressed. 

The wonderful air is over me, 

And the wonderful wnnd is shaking 

the tree ; 
It walks on the water, and whirls the 

mills. 
And talks to itself on the tops of the 

hills. 



You friendly Earth, how far do you go 
With the wheat-fields that nod and the 

rivers that flow. 
With cities, and gardens, and cliffs, 

and isles. 
And people upon you for thousands 

of miles ? 

Ah ! you are so great, and I am so small, 
I tremble to think of you, World, at all ; 
And yet, when I say my prayers to- day, 
A whisper inside me seemed to say, 
"You are more than the Earth, though 

you are such a dot : 
Y^oucan love and think, and the Earth 

cannot !" 

LiLLiPUT Lectures. 



471 



472 



TREES AND FLOWERS. 



ALL THINGS BEAUTIFUL. 

All things bright and l)eautifnl, 
All creatures great and small, 

All things wise and wonderful, — 
The Lord God made them all. 

Each little flower that opens, 
Each little bird that sings, — 

He made their glowing colors, 
He made their tiny wings. 

The purple-headed mountain, 

The river running by, 
The morning and the sunset 

That lighteth up the sky ; 

The tall trees in the greenwood, 
The pleasant summer sun. 

The ripe fruits in the garden, — 
He made them every one. 

He gave us eyes to see them. 
And lips, that we might tell 

How great is God Almighty, 
Who hath made all things well. 

John Keble. 

THE TREE. 

The Tree's early leaf-buds were burst- 
ing their brown : 
"Shall I take them away?" says the 
Frost sweeping down. 
"No, leave them alone 
Till the blossoms have grown." 
Prayed the Tree, while he trembled 
from rootlet to crown. 



The Tree bore his blossoms, and all 

the birds sung : 
"Shall I take them away?" said the 
Wind as he swung. 
"No, leave them alone 
Till the berries have grown," 
Said the Tree, while his leaflets quiv- 
ering hung. 

The Tree bore his fruit in the mid- 
summer glow : 
Said the girl, "May I gather thy ber- 
ries now?" 
"Yes, all thou canst see : 
Take them: all are for thee," 
Said the Tree, wliile he bent down his 
laden boughs low. 

BjciRNSTJEENE BJOTiXSON. 



WOODMAN SPARE THAT TREE. 

Woodman spare that tree ! 

Touch not a single bough ! 
In youth it sheltered me. 

And I'll protect it now. 
'Twas my forefather's hand 

That placed it near his cot ; 
There, woodman, let it stand. 

Thy axe shall harm it not. 

That old familiar tree, 

Wliose glory and renown 
Are spread o'er land and sea — 

And wouldst thou hew it down ? 
Woodman, forbear thy stroke ! 

Cut not its earth-bound ties : 




ALT, THINfiS BEAUTIFUI,. 



473 



474 



TREES AND FLOWERS. 



Oh, spare that aged oak, 
Now towering to the skies. 

When hilt an idle hoy 

I sought its grateful shade ; 
In all their gushing joy 

Here, loo, niy sister.-^ played. 



And still thy hrancdies hend. 
Old tree ! the storm still brave ! 

And, woodman, leave the spot ; 
While I've a hand to save. 

Thy axe shall harm it not ! 

Geoege p. Mokeis. 




My mother kissed me here, 
My father pressed my hand — 

Forgive this foolish tear, 
But let that old oak stand ! 

My heart strings round thee cling 

Close as thy bark, old friend ! 
Here shall the wild bird sing. 



THE BRAVE OLD OAK. 

A song to the oak, the brave 
old oak, 
Who hath ruled in the green- 
wood long ; 
Here's health and renown to 
his broad, green cro^\Tl, 
And his fifty arms so strong. 
There's fear in his frown when 
the sun goes down, 
And the fire in the west 
fades out ; 
And he showeth his might on 
a wild midnight, 
When the storm through his 
branches shout. 

Then here's to the oak, the 
brave old oak. 
Who stands in his pride 
alone ; 

And still flourish he, a hale, green tree, 
^Wlen a hundred years are gone ! 

In the days of old, when the spring 

with cold 
Had brightened his branches gray, 
Through the grass at his feet crept 

maidens sweet. 



THE OLD APPLE TREE. 



475 



To gather the dew of Mny. 
And on that day to the rebeck gay 

They frohcked with lovesome swains ; 
They are gone, they are dead, in 
the church-yard hxid, 
But the tree it still remains. 
Then here's, &c. 







He saw the rare times when the Christ- 
mas chimes 
Was a merry sound to hear, 
When the squire's wide hall and the 
cottage small 
Were filled with good English cheer. 
Now gold hath the sway we all obey, 

And a ruthless king is he ; 
But he never shall send our ancient 
friend 
To be tossed on the stormy sea. 
Then here's, &c. 

H. F. Choeley. 



THE OLD APPLE TREE 

I'm fond of the good apple tree ; 
A very good-natured friend is he, 
For, knock at his door when e'er you 

may, 
He's always something to give away. 



Shake him in winter : on all below 
He'll send down a shower of feathery 

snow ; 
And when the spring sun is shining 

bright. 
He'll fling down blossoms pink and 

white. 

And when the summer comes so warm. 
He shelters the little birds safe from 

harm ; 
And shakehimdn autumn, hewillnot fail 
To send you down apples thick as hail. 

Therefore, it cannot a wonder be 
That we sing hurrah for the apple tree ! 



IN THE ORCHARD. 

Apples red and apples green. 
Apples rich and ripe are seen 
In the orchard near the road,— ^ 
Apples, apples, by the load ! 

In the spring the trees were wiiite, 
Apple-blossoms, such a sight ! 
Little apples filled the trees. 
Fanned all summer by the breeze. 

Little apples grew and grew. 
Living on the rain and dew; 
Now the fruit in great, rich stores 
Harvest in the orchard pours. 

Glad the farmer's swelling heart ! 
Glad the little children start 
For the orchard, where they play 
" Picking apples" all the day. 



476 



TREES AND FLOWERS. 



CHERRY BLOSSOM, 



Little Cherry Blossom . 

Lived up in a tree, 
And a very happy 

Little thing was she. 

Clad all through the winter 
In a dress of brown, 

Warm she was though living 
In a northern town. 

But one sunny morning, 
Thinking it was May, 

"I'll not wear," said Blossom, 
"This old dress to-day." 

Mr. Breeze, this hearing, 

Very kindly said, 
''Do be careful, Blossom : 

"Winter has not fled." 

Blossom would not listen ; 

For the sky was bright. 
And she wished to glisten 

In her robe of white. 

So she let the brown one 
Drop and blow away. 

Leaving her the white one. 
All so fine and gay ! 

By and by the sunshine 
Faded from her view : 

How poor Blossom shivered 
As it colder grew ! 

Oh for that warm wrapper 
Lying on the ground ! 



Ah ! Jack Frost will nip her : 
He is prowling round. 

Yes, he folds poor Blossom 

In his arms of ice. 
And her white robe crumples, — 

Robe so fine and nice ! 

Ah ! poor Cherry Blossom ! 

She, in foolish pride. 
Changed her wonted clothing, 

Took a cold, and died. 

All ye little blossoms. 

Hear me, and take care : 

Go not clad too thinly. 

And of pride beware. 

s. M. Day. 



CHERRIES ARE RIPE. 

Cherries are ripe. 

Cherries are ripe, 
Oh give the baby one ; 

Cherries are ripe. 

Cherries are ripe. 
But baby shall have none ; 
Babies are too young to choose, 
Cherries are too sour to use. 

But by and by. 

Made in a pie, 
No one will then refuse. 

Up in the tree 
Eobin I see. 
Picking one by one ; 
Shaking his bill. 
Getting his fill. 



HOW SPRING MADE HER FLOWERS. 



477 



Down bis throat they run : 
Robins want no cherry pie ; 
Quick they eat, and otf they fly ; 

My httle child, 

Patient and mild. 
Surely will not cry. 

Cherries are ripe, 

Cherries are ripe. 
But we will let them fall ; 

Cherries are ripe. 

Cherries are ripe. 
But bad for babies small ; 
Gladly follow mother's will, 
Be obedient, kind, and still ; 

"Waiting a while. 

Delighted you'll smile. 
And joyful eat your fill. 

Hastings' Nukseby Songs. 



HOW SPRING MADE HER 
FLOWERS. 



Little Spring sat out on the hills one day 
When Winter was sweeping his. snows 

away ; 
Mother Nature came by and whis- 
pered low, 
" My daughter, I'm sorry you idle so ! 
If you lazily pass the fleeting hours. 
When, you naughty Spring, will you 
make your flowers ?" 

Spring looked not up nor a word re- 
plied, 

But her sweet hps quivered, and soon 
she cried, 



"It is hard to work, and I am too 

small. 
And too young to do anything at all !" 

Down her hot tears fell on a bank of 

snow. 
Which winter forgot, it was hidden so. 
See, it melts a little at each warm 

tear, 
And where it had lain the green leaves 

appear. 
Spring played in the snow with her 

fingers pink — 
The color came off a little, I think. 

Rounded bits she placed on each stem 
so brown. 

And, pleased with the sight, she 
stooped softly down. 

And kissed into life the pure waxen 
leaves. 

While each from her breath a per- 
fume receives. 

Made of tears and kisses and warmth 
and snow. 

What wonder we love the May-Flower 
so ! 

Then, laughing and singing, she wan- 
dered down 

To the fields which lay just beyond 
the town. 

'Twixt her finger and thumb the sun- 
beams pass. 

And they fall in rings on the freshened 
crass. 



4/8 



TREES AND FLOWERS. 



" Dandelions!" the children shout at 


She carries them down to the orchards 


play, 


bare, 


When they run from school at (-lose of 


And, with many a deft touch here 


the day ; 


and there. 


But Spring and you and I know very 


Eound each little twig she fastens 


well, 


them tight, 


They were bits of sunshine caught as 


To her own, the trees' and the world's 


they fell. 


delight, 



''Mkj 








As she dances on, Spring suddenly sees 
How forlornly bare are the orchard 

trees. 
Already the sun is going to rest ; 
He paints as he goes, the clouds in 

the west ; 
And Spring flies up to the Avhite and 

the pink, 
And, quicker than anyone else could 

think, 



'•Fine prospect for fruit!" 
says the owner proud ; 

And how should he know 'tis 
a sunset cloud? 

t^The light has died out of the 

twilight sky ; 
^^ Night smiles upon Spring as 
she passes by — 
She is going to j)ierce the 

curtain blue. 
To let the light of heavens 
shine through. 
Spring gathers the fragments of deep- 
blue sky. 
And soon all over the meadows they 
lie. 

It must have been so, else how should 
there be 

Violets as many as stars that you 
see '? 

" Does Spring always make her flow- 
ers this way '?" 

The wreathed and garlanded children 
say. 

I can only tell W'hat she did that 
day. 



A LITTLE child's FANCIES. 



479 



A LITTLE CHILD'S FANCIES. 



I think that the world was finished at 
night, 
Or the stars would not have been 
made ; 
For they wouldn't have thought of 
having the light, 
If they hadn't first seen the shade. 

And then, again, I alter my mind. 
And think perhaps it was day, 
And the starry night was >^^ 

only designed 
For a little child tired of 
play. 

And I think that an angel, 
when nobody knew. 
With a window pushed 
up very high. 
Let some of the seeds of 
the flowers fall through 
From the gardens they 
have in the skv. 



And are suiging to us the songs they 
learned 
On the opposite side of the sky. 

And a rainbow must be the shining 
below 
Of a place in Heaven's floor that is 

thin, 
When the dear Lord lets them in. 

And I think that the clouds that float 
in the skies 



A<^ 












For they couldn't think 
Jicre of lilies so white, 
And such beautiful roses 
I know ; 

But I wonder when falling from such , ^re the curtains that thef, drop down, 
a height, | Yqt fear when we look we should daz- 

The dear little seeds should grow ! ' ^le our eves 

And then, when the face of the angel ^s they each of them put on their 
has turned, i crown. 

I think that the birds flew by, 
Right close to the door where the chil- I do not know why the Avater was sent, 
dren go. Unless, perhaps, it might be 



48o 



TREES AND FLOWERS. 



God wanted us all to know what it 
meant 
When we read of the "Jasper Sea," 

Oh ! the world where we live is a love- 
ly place, 
But it oftentimes makes me sigh, 
For I'm always trying causes to trace, 
And keep thinking "Wherefore?" 
and "Why?" 

Ah ! dear little child, the longing you 
feel 
Is the stir of immortal wings, 
But infinite Love one day will reveal 
The most hidden and puzzling 
things. 

You have only your duty to try and do. 
To be happy, and rest content ; 

For by being good and by being true 
You will find out all that is meant! 

Mes. L. C. Whiton. 



FLOWERS. 



With what a lavish hand 

God beautifies the earth, 
When ever3rwhere, all o'er the land. 

Sweet flowers are peeping forth ! 

Down by the babbling brook, 

Up in the silent hills, 
The glen, the bower, the shady nook. 

Their breath with fragrance fills. 
They creep along the hedge. 

They cHmb the rugged height. 



And, leaning o'er the water's edge, 
Blush in their own sweet light. 

They seem to breathe and talk, 

They pour into my ear. 
Where'er I look, where'er I walk, 

A music soft and clear, 

The}^ have no pride of birth. 

No choice of regal bower ; 
The humblest, lowliest spot on earth 

May claim the fairest flower. 



THE USE OF FLOWERS, 

God might have bade the earth bring 
forth 

Enough for great and small, 
The oak tree and the cedar tree. 

Without a flower at all. 
We might have had enough, enough, 

For every want of ours. 
For luxury, medicine, and toil. 

And yet have had no flowers. 

Then wherefore, wherefore were they 
made. 

All dyed with rainbow hght. 
All fashioned with supremest grace, 

Upspringing day and night — 
Springing in valleys green and low, 

And on the mountain high. 
And in the silent wilderness 

Where no man passes by ? 

Our outward life requires them not — 
Then wherefore had they birth ? 



PRETTY POLLY PANSY. 



481 




To minister delight to man, 

To beautify the earth ; 
To comfort man — to whisper hope 

Whene'er bis faith is dim, 
For Who so careth for the flowers 

Will care much more for him ! 

Mary Howitt. 



And so, all unnoticed, 
The long summer thro'. 

She sipped of the sunshine, 
She drank of the dew. 

Till the frail, snowy lilies 
Were wind-torn and tossed, 

The pink-petaled roses 
All nipped by the frost. 

When the gay flowers 
Were every one dead, 

Pretty Polly Pansy 
Lifted her head. 

"The garden is empty — 

Plenty of room," 
She laughed, nodded gaily, 

"Time I should bloom. 

They'll still miss the lilies 
And mourn for the rose ; 
I can't take the place of 
The least flower that grows. 



PRETTY POLLY PANSY. 

Pretty Polly Pansy 
Came in the spring ; 

The gay garden posies 
Were all blossoming. 

Nobody noticed her. 
Small, shy and sweet. 

She hid in the grasses 
Close under their feet. 




'"But PU brighten my corner!' 

I think I would do. 
If I were a pansy, 

The same, wouldn't you ? 



482 



TREES AND FLOWERS. 



NEW DRESSES. 



New dresses ? Ay, this is the season ! 

For opening chiy is close by : 
Akeady I know the" Spring fashions" — 

Can tell you, I think, if I try. 

Of colors, the first thing to mention, 
There's a great variety seen ; 

But that which obtains the most favor 
Is surely a very bright green. 

True, the elderly portion are plainer, 

And choose, both in country and 

town, 

To appear in the shades which are 

sombre, 

And keep on the garments of brown. 

Miss Snow-drop, the first of the season. 

Comes out in such very good taste — 

Pure white, with her pretty green 

trimmings ; 

How charming she is ! and how 

chaste ! 

Miss Crocus, too, shows very early 
Her greetings of love for the sun, 

And comes in her white, blue, or yel- 
low; 
All dresses of hers are home-spun. 

And who is this handsome young 
master, 
A friend to Miss Crocus so true ? 
He comes dressed in purple or yellow, 
And sometimes in pink, white and 
blue. 



In form he is tall and majestic ; 
Ah ! the Spring has just whispered 
his name : 
"Hyacinthus," the beau of the season, 
And sweet and widespread is his 
fame. 

Madame Tulip, a dashing gay lady, 
Appears in a splendid brocade ; 

She courts the bright sunbeams, which 
give her 
All colors, of every shade. 

She came to us o'er the wide ocean, 
Away from her own native air. 

But if she can dress as she chooses, 
She can l)e quite at home anywhere. 

Narcissus, a very vain fellow. 

Has a place in the Spring fashions 
too — 
Appears in his green, white, and yel- 
low; 
In his style, though, there's nothing 
that's new. 

Miss Daisy wears white, with fine fiut- 
ing; 
A sweet little creature is she. 
But she loves the broad fields and 
green meadows, 
And cares not town fashions to see. 

Another style, pretty and tasteful — 
Green, dotted with purple or blue — 

Is worn by Miss Myrtle, whose beauty 
In shade and retirement grew. 




NEW DRESSES. 



483 



484 



TREES AND FLOWERS. 



I've borrowed these styles from Dame 
Natm-e, 
Whose children are always well 
dressed : 
In contrast and blending of colors 
She always knows what is the best. 

Already her hand is arranging 

More elaborate trimmings for May ; 

In silence unseen it is working, 
Accomplishing much every day. 

Her "full dress" and festive occasion 
Will take place quite early in June, 
Ushered in by low notes of sweet 
music. 
Which her song-birds alone can at- 
tune. 

S. H. Baker. 



BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES. 



Buttercups and Daisies — 

Oh, the pretty flowers ! 
Coming ere the spring-time, 

To tell of sunny hours. 
While the trees are leafless, 

While the fields are bare, 
Buttercups and Daisies 

Spring up everywhere. 

Ere the snow-drop peepeth, 
Ere the crocus bold. 

Ere the early primrose 
Opes its paly gold, 

Somewhere on a sunny bank 
Buttercups are bright, 



Somewhere 'mongthe frozen grass 
Peeps the daisy white. 

Little hardy flowers. 

Like to children poor, 
Playing in their sturdy health 

By their mother's door ; 
Purple with the north wind. 

Yet alert and bold. 
Fearing not, and caring not. 

Though they be a-cold. 




What to them is weather ? 

What are stormy showers ? 
Buttercups and Daisies 

Are these human flowers ! 
He who gave them hardship 

And a life of care. 
Gave them likewise hardy strength. 

And patient hearts to bear. 

Welcome, yellow Buttercups, 
Welcome, Daisies white ! 



THE BLUEBELL. 



485 



Ye are in my spirit 

Visioned, a delight ! 
Coming ere the spring-time 

Of sunny hours to tell, 
Speaking to our hearts of Him 

Who doeth all things well. 

Maby Ho WITT. 



THE BLUEBELL. 

There is a story I have heard, 
A poet learned it of a bird. 
And kept its music every word, 

A story of a dim ravine 
O'er which the towering 

tree-tops lean, 
"With one blue rift of sky 

between ; 

And there two thousand 

years ago, 
A little flower as white as 

snow 
Swayed in the silence to 

and fro. 

Day after day, with longing 

eye, 
The floweret watched the 

narrow sky. 
And fleecy clouds that 

floated by. 

And through the darkness, night by 

night. 
One gleaming star would climb the 

height, 
And cheer the lonely floweret's sight. 



Thus watching the blue heavens afar, 
And the rising of its favorite star, 
A slow change came, — but not too 
near, 




For softly o'er its petals white 

There crept a blueness, like the 

light 
Of skies upon a summer night ; 



486 



TREES AND FLOWERS. 



And in its chalice, I am told, 


Careless of cold. 


The bonny bell was formed to hold 


Blithe little Dandelion 


A tiny star, that gleamed like gold. 


Counteth her gold. 


Now, little people sweet and true, 

I find a lesson here for you, 

Writ in the floweret's bell of blue : 


Meek little Dandelion 
Groweth more fair, 

Till dies the amber dew 
Out from her hair. 


The patient child whose watchful eye 


High rides the thirsty sun, 


Strives after all things pure and high. 


Fiercely and high ; 


Shall take their image by and by. 


Faint little Dandelion 




Closeth her eye. 


LITTLE DANDELION. 


Pale little Dandelion, 
In her white shroud. 


Gay little Dandelion 
Lights up the meads. 


Heareth the angel-breeze 
Call from the cloud ! 


Swings on her slender foot, 


Tiny plumes fluttering 


Telleth her beads, 


Make no delay ! 


Lists to the robin's note 


Little winged Dandelion 


Poured from above : 
Wise little Dandelion 


Soareth away. 

Helen B. Bostwick. 


Asks not for love. 


THE VIOLET. 


Cold lie the daisy banks 
Clothed but in green, 

Where, in the days a gone. 
Bright hues were seen. 

Wild pinks are slumbering ; 


Down in the green and shady bed 

A modest violet grew ; 
Its stalk was bent, it hung its head. 

As if to hide from view. 


Violets delay ; 


And yet it was a lovely flower. 


True little Dandelion 


Its color bright and fair ; 


Greeteth the May. 


It might have graced a rosy bower 


Brave little Dandelion ! 


Instead of hiding there. 


Fast falls the snow. 


Yet there it was content to bloom, 


Bending the daffodil's 


In modest tints arrayed, 


Haughty head low. 


And there it spread its sweet perfume 


Under that fleecy tent, 


Within the silent shade. 



LITTLE WHITE LILY. 



487 



Then let me to the village go 
This pretty flower to see, 

That I may also learn to grow 
In sweet humility. 



Jane Tatlok. 



LITTLE WHITE LILY. 



Little white Lily 
Sat by a stone, 

Drooping and waiting 
Till the sun shone. 

Little white Lily 
Sunshine has fed; 

Little white Lily 
Is lifting her head 

Little white Lily 
Said, "It is good ; 

Little white Lily's 
Clothing and food." 

Little white Lily, 
Drest like a bride. 

Shining with whiteness, 
And crowned beside ! 

Little white Lily 

Droopeth with pain, 
Waiting and waiting 

For the wet rain. 

Little white Lily 
Holdeth her cup ; 

Eain is fast falling. 
And filling it up. 



Little white Lily 

Said, "Good again — 
When I am thirsty 

To have fresh rain ! 

Now I am stronger ; 

Now I am cool ; 
Heat cannot burn me, 

My veins are so full." 

Little white Lily 
Smells very sweet ; 

On her head sunshine. 
Rain at her feet. 

"Thanks to the sunshine, 
Thanks to the rain I 

Little white Lily 
Is happy again !" 



George McDonald. 



THE FLOWER 



Once in a golden hour 
I cast to earth a seed. 

Up there came a flower. 
The people said a weed. 

To and fro they went 
Thro' my garden bower. 

And muttering discontent 
Cursed me and my flower. 

Then it grew so tail 

It wore a crown of light. 

But thieves from o'er the wall 
Stole the seed by night. 

Sow'd it far and wide 

By every town and tower, 



488 



TREES AND FLOWERS. 



Till all the people cried, 
"Splendid is the tiower." 

Head my little fable ; 

He that runs may read ; 
Most can raise the flowers now, 

For all have got the seed. 

And some are pretty enough, 

And some are poor indeed ; 

And now again the people 

Call it but a weed. 

Alfred Tennyson. 



'TIS THE LAST ROSE OF 
SUMMER. 

'Tis the last rose of summer, 

Left blooming alone ; 
All her lovely companions 

Are faded and gone ; 
No flower of her kindred, 



No rosebud, is nigh 
To reflect back her blushes, 
Or give sigh for sigh. 

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one 

To pine on the stem ; 
Since the lovely are sleeping, 

Go, sleep thou with them ; 
Thus kindly, I scatter 

Thy leaves o'er the bed 
Where thy mates of the garden 

Lie scentless and dead. 

So soon may I follow. 

When friendships decay. 
And from loves shining circle 

The gems droj) away ; 
When true hearts lie withered, 

And fond ones are flown, 
0, who would inhabit 

This bleak world alone ? 

Thomas Mooke. 




Nature's Voice. 



MTURE'S YOIGE. 




NATURE'S VOICE. 



Whatever mine ears can hear, 
Whatever mine eyes can see, 

In Nature so bright 

With beauty and light, 
Has a message of love for me. 

Glorious clouds ! as ye sail 
Over the clear, blue sky, 
Ye tell of the hour 
When the Lord of power 
In clouds shall descend from on hiffh ! 



Ye sheep that on pastures green 
Beside the still waters feed, 
Ye bring to my mind 
The Shepherd so kind 

Who supplies all His people's 
need. 

The birds as they soar aloft, 
The flowers as they bloom 
below, 
His praises declare 
Who made all so fair, — 
His wisdom and love they show.. 



491 



492 



nature's voice. 



Lord, give me a tongue to praise ; 

Ob, give me a heart to love ! 

Till at last I come 

To a brighter home, 

A still fairer world above ! 

A. L. o. E. 



RURAL NATURE. 

Where art thoulovliest, Nature, tell ! 
Oh, where maj^ be thy Paradise? 

Where grow 
Thy happiest groves ? And down what 

woody dell 
Do thy most fancy-winning waters 

flow? 
Tell where thy softest breezes longest 

blow ? 
And where thy ever blissful mountains 

swell 
Upon whose sides the cloudless sun 

may throw 
Eternal summer, while the air may 

quell 
His fury. Is it 'neatli his morning 

car. 
Where jeweled palaces, and golden 

thrones, 
Have awed the Eastern nations through 

all time ? 
Or o'er the Western seas, or where 

afar 
Our winter sun warms up the south- 
ern zones 
With summer? Where can be the 

happy climes ? 

William Barnes. 



UNDER THE LEAVES. 

Oft have I walked these woodland 
paths. 

Without the blest foreknowing 
That underneath the withered leaves 

The fairest buds were growing. 

To-day the south wind sweeps away 
The types of autumn's splendor, 

And shows the sweet arbutus flowers, 
SiH'ing's children, pure and tender. 

prophet-flowers ! — with lips of bloom, 

Out-vying in your beauty 
The i^early tints of ocean shells, — 

Ye teach me faith and duty ! 

"Walk life's dark ways," ye seem to 

say, 

"With love's divine foreknowing, 

That where man sees but withered 

leaves, 

God sees sweet flowers growing." 
Albert Laighton. 



DAYBREAK. 

A wind came up out of the sea. 
And said, "0 mists, make room for 
me !" 

It hailed the ships, and cried, "Sail 

on. 
Ye mariners, the night is gone." 

And hurried landward far away. 
Crying, "Awake ! it is the day." 



MORXIXG. 



493 




It said unto the forest, "Shout ! 
Hang all your leafy banners out !" 

It touched the wood-bird's folded wing, 
And said, "0 bird, awake and sing !" 

And o'er the farms, "0 chanticleer. 
Your clarion blow ; the day is near !" 

It whispered to the fields of corn, 
"Bow down, and hail the coming 
morn !" 

It shouted through the belfry-tower, 
"Awake, bell ! proclaim the hour." 

It crossed the church-yard with a sigh. 

And said, "Not yet ! in quiet lie." 

Henby Wadsworth Longfellow. 



MORNING. 



FROM THE MINSTREL. 



But who the melodies of morn can tell ? 
The wild brook babbling down the 

mountain side ; 
The lowing herd ; the sheepfold's 

simple bell ; 
The pipe of early shepherd dim descried 



In the lone valley ; echoing far and 

wide 
The clamorous horn along the cliffs 

above ; 
The hollow murmur of the ocean tide, 
The hum of bees, the linnet's lay of love, 
And the full choir that wakes the un- 
iversal grove. 

The cottage curs at early pilgrim bark ; 

Crowned with her pail the tripping 
milkmaid sings; 

The whistling ploughman stalks 
afield ; and, hark ! 

Down the rough slope the ponderous 
wagon rings ; 

Through rustling corn the hare aston- 
ished springs ; 

Slow tolls the village-clock the 
drowsy hour ; 

The partridge bursts away on whir- 
ring wings ; 

Deep mourns the tui-tle in sequestered 
bower. 

And shrill lark carols clear from her 
aerial tower. 

James Brattie. 



494 



NATURE S VOICE. 



NOONTIDE. 



Beneath a shivering canopy rechned, 
Of aspen-leaves that wave without a 

wind, 
I love to lie, when lulling breezes stir 
The spiry cones that tremble on the 

lir; 
Or wander mid the dark-green fields 

of broom. 
When peers in scattered tufts the 

yellow bloom ; 
Or trace the path with tangling furze 

o'errun. 
When bursting seed- bells crackle in 

the sun. 
And pittering grasshoppers, confus'd- 

ly shrill, 
Pipe giddily along the glowing hill : 
Sweet grasshopper, who lov'st at 

noon to lie 
Serenely in the green-ribbed clover's 

eye, 
To sun thy filmy wings and emerald 

vest. 
Unseen thy form, and undisturbed 

thy rest, 
Oft have I listened, mused the sultry 

day. 
And wondered what thy chirping 

song might say, 
When naught was heard along the 

blossomed lea, 
To join thy music, save the listless 

bee. 

Du. John Leyden. 



SUNSET. 

We stood upon the ragged rocks. 
When the long day was nearly 
done ; 
The waves had ceased their sullen 
shocks, 
And lapped our feet with murmur- 
ing tone. 
And o'er the bay in streaming locks. 
Blew the red tresses of the sun. 

Along the west the golden bars 
Still to a deeper glory grew ; 
Above our heads the faint, few stars 
Looked out from the unfathomed 
blue ; 
And the fair city's clamorous jars 
Seemed melted in that evening 
hue. 

sunset sky ! purple tide ! 

friends to friends that closer 

pressed ! 
Those glories have in darkness died, 
And ye have left my longing 

breast. 

1 could not keep you by my side 

Nor fix that radiance in the west. 

W. B. Glaziek. 



NIGHT. 



Night is the time for rest ; 

How sweet, when labors close, 
To gather round an aching breast 

The cuitain of repose. 



NIGHT. 



495 



Stretch the tired Hmbs and lay the head 
Down on our own dehghtful bed ! 

Night is the time for dreams : 

The gay romance of Hfe,' 
"When truth that is, and truth that 
seems, 
Mix in fantastic strife ; 
Ah ! visions, less beguihng far 
Than w^aking dreams by dayhght are ! 



Those graves of Memory, where sleep 

The joys of other years ; 
Hopes, that were Angels at their birth, 

But died when young, like things 
of earth. 

Night is the time to watch : 
O'er ocean's dark expanse, 

To hail the Pleiades, or catch 
The full moon's earliest glance. 




Night is the time for toil : 
To plough the classic field, 

Intent to find the buried spoil 
Its wealthy furrows yield ; 

Till all is ours that sages taught. 
That poets sang, and heroes 
wrought. 

Night is the time to weep ; 
To wet with unseen tears 



That brings into the homesick mind 
All we have loved and left behind. 

Night is the time for care : 
Brooding on hours misspent, 

To see the spectre of Despair 
Come to our lonely tent ; 

Like Brutus, midst his slumbering 
host. 
Summoned to die by Caesar's ghost. 



496 



nature's voice. 



Night is the time to think ; 

When, from the eye, the soul 
Takes flight; and on the utmost 
brink 

Of yonder starry pole 
Discerns beyond the abyss of night 

The dawn of uncreated hght. 

Night is the time to pray ; 
Our Savior oft withdrew 
To desert mountains far away ; 

So will his follower do, 
Steal from the throng to haunts un- 
trod, 
And commune there alone with 
God. 

Night is the time for Death ; 

When all around is peace. 
Calmly to yield the weary breath, 

From sin and suffering cease ; 
Tliink of heaven's bliss and give the 
sign 

To parting friends ; — such death be 

mine. 

James Montgomf.ey. 



THE SEASON'S CHARMS. 



The Spring has many charms for me, 

And many pleasant hours 
To ramble, unrestrained and free, 

Among her blooming flowers. 

And Summer, when she visits earth. 
In leafy garb arrayed, 



I bless her for her cooling showers, 
Her sunshine and her shade. 

And Autumn, laden with the fruits 

Of diligence and toil. 
Is welcome as the sky that glows 

Above the sunny soil. 

The Winter, too, has many joys 

The cheerful onl_y know, 
For love and hope and happiness 

May bloom amid the snow. 

I love the seasons as they pass, 
God's blessings as they fall. 

The joys that sparkle in life's glass- 
I love, I love them all. 



THE FOUR SEASONS. 

SPRING. 

Spring day ! happy day ! 
God hath made the earth so gay I 
Every little flower He waketh. 
Every herb to grow He maketh. 
Wlien the pretty lanrbs are springing, 
When the little birds are singing, 
Child, forget not God to praise. 
Who hath sent such happy days. 

SUMMER, 

Summer day ! sultry day ! 
Hotly burns the noontide ray ; 
Gentle drops of sumlner showers 
Fall on thirsty trees and flowars ; 
On the cornfield rain doth pour. 



GOOD-NIGHT. 



49; 



Eipening grain for winter store. 
Clnkl, to God thy thanks should be, 
Who in summer thinks of thee. 

AUTUMN. 

Autumn day! fruitful day! 
See what God hath given away ! 
Orchard trees with fruit are bending, 
Harvest wains are homeward wend- 

And the Lord all o'er the land 
Opens wide His bounteous hand. 
Children, gatliering fruits that fall. 
Think of God, who gives them all. 

WINTER. 

Winter day ! frosty day ! 
God a cloak on all doth lay ; 
On the earth the snow He sheddeth, 
O'er the lamb a fleece He spreadeth, 
Gives the bird a coat of feather 
To protect it from the weather, 
Gives the children home and food — 
Let us praise Him — God is good ! 



GOOD-NIGHT. 



**Good-night !" said the plough to the 
weary old horse ; 

And Dobbin responded, " Good- 
night !" 

Then, with Tom on his back, to the 
farm-house he turned, 
With a feeling of quiet delight. 

^'Good-night !" said the ox, with a 
comical bow. 
As he turned from the heavy old cart, 



Which laughed till it shook a roiuid 
wheel from its side, 
Then creaked out, "Good-night, 
from my heart !" 

"Good-night !" said the hen, when her 
supper w^as done, 
To Fanny, who stood in the door ; 
"Good-night ! " answered Fanny ; 
"come back in the morn. 
And you and your chicks shall have 
more." 

"Quack, quack!" said the duck; '• I 
wish you all well. 
Though I cannot tell what is polite.'' 
"The will for the deed," answered 
Benny the brave ; 
"Good-night, Madam Ducky, good- 
night !" 



CHILD'S SONG IN SPRING. 



Yes, little girl. 

Out in the wheat. 
Daisies are springing 

White as your feet ; 
Growing for you 

Out in the wheat, 
Only because 

You are so sweet. 
Yes, little girl, 

Down in the wood, 
Violets are blowing 

Blue as your hood ; 
Blooming for you, 

Down in the wood, 
Only because 



498 



nature's voice. 



You are so good. 

Yes, little girl, 

Under the mere, 
Lilies langh up 




Where the water is clear; 
Smile up at you 

From under the mere, 
Only because 

You are so dear. 



SPRING AND THE FLOWERS. 

In the snowing and the blowing, 

In the cruel sleet. 
Little flowers begin their growing 

Far beneath our feet. 
Softly taps the Spring, and clieerily 

"Darlings, are you here?" 
Till they answ^er, "We are nearly, 

Nearly ready, dear. 



"Where is Winter, with his snowing? 

Tell us. Spring," they say. 
Then she answers, "He is going, 

Going on his way. 
Poor old Winter does not love j^ou. 

But his time is past ; 
Soon my birds shall sing above you — 

Set you free at last. 



SUMMER. 



The seeds we sowed in spring-time 
Have blossomed into flowers ; 

The budding bouglis of spring-time 
Are thick-wove summer bowers ; 

The water-lily lies at rest 

Upon the quiet pool ; 
The happy year is idle now, 

Like children out of school. 



SUMMER'S NIGH. 



How do I know? 
Why, this very day 
A robin sat 




On a tilting spray, 
And merrily sang 
A song of IMay. 
Jack Frost has fled 



SPRING VOICES. 



499 



From the rippling brook, 

And a trout peeped out 

From his shady nook. 

A butterfly too 

Flew lazily by, 

And the willow catkins 

Shook from on high 

Their yellow dust 

As I passed by. 

And so I know 

That Summer is nigh. 



SPRING VOICES. 



"Caw! caw!" says the 

Crow, 
"Spring has come again 

I know ; 
For, as sure as I am 

born. 
There's a farmer plant- pf^^ij'i^';,il)| 

ingcorn; gMlll 

I shall breakfast there, 1 

trow. 
Long before his corn can 

grow." 

"Quack, quack!" says the Duck, 
"Was there ever such good luck ! 
Spring has cleared the pond of ice. 
And the day is warm and nice. 
Just as I and Goodman Drake 
Thought we'd like a swim to take." 

«*Croak, croak !" says the Frog, 
As he leaps out from the bog ; 
"Spring is near, I do declare, 







For the earth is warm and fair : 
Ci-oak ! croak ! croak ! I love the spring, 
When the little birdies sing." 



SPRING. 



River and fountain, brook and rill. 
Bespangled o'er M'ith livery gay 
Of silver droplets, wind their way. 
All in their new apparel vie, 
For Time hath laid his mantle by. 



500 



nature's voice. 



A SUMMER CALL. 



Girls aud boys, come out to play, 
Trees are green and fields are gay. 
While little birds carol on every spray- 
Girls and boys, come out to play. 




Leave your slates, and close your 

books, 
Come explore my pleasant nooks. 
And see your shadows in mirroring 

brooks — 
Girls and boys, come out to play. 

Tread the springy sward again. 
Gather hawthorn down the lane, 



And link the delicate daisy chain — 
Girls and boys, come out to play. 

Come in quest of violets rare, 
Twine the primrose in your hair. 
And seek the hyacinth fresh and fair- 
Girls and boys, come out to play. 



SUMMER MOODS. 

I love at eventide to walk alone, 

Down narrow glens, o'erhung with 
dewy thorn, 

Where, from the long grass under- 
neath, the snail. 

Jet black, creeps out, and sprouts his 
timid horn. 

I love to muse o'er meadows newly 
mown. 

Where withering grass perfumes the 
sultry air; 

Where bees search round, with sad 
and weary drone, 

In vain, for flowers that bloomed but 
newly there ; 

While in the juicy corn the hidden quail 

Cries, "Wet my foot;" and, hid as 
thoughts unborn. 

The fairy-like and seldom-seen land- 
rail 

Utters "Craik, craik," like voices un- 
der ground, 

Right glad to meet the evening's dewy 
veil, 

And see the light fade into gloom 
around. 



THE child's may song. 



501 







THE CHILD'S MAY SONG 

A merry little maiden, 

In the merry month of May, 
Came tripping o'er the meadow. 

As she sang this merry lay : — 

"I'm a merry little maiden, 
My heart is light and gay ; 



And I love the sunny 
I weather 

In the merry month of 
May. 

; "I love the pretty lambkins 
That gayly sport and 
play. 
And make such frolic gam- 
bols 
In the merry month of 
May. 

T love the little birdies 
' 'y. That sit upon the spray, 
And sing me such a blithe 
■ , ^ .. song 

f :^ In the merr}- month of 
May. 

1%X I " I love the blooming flowers 
^ %^i ■ That grow on Ijank and 
^ ^f brae, 

%_ And with them weave my 
garlands 
In the merry month of 
May. 
" ' -ss ..-j- 2^^.g ^^^^^ little sisters 

And my brothers every day, 
And I seem to love them better 
In the merry month of May." 



WHAT SO SWEET? 

What so sweet as summer. 

When the sky is blue. 
And the sunbeams' arrows 

Pierce the green earth through? 



502 



nature's voice. 



HARVEST HYMN. 

Now Autumn strews on every plain 
His mellow fruits and fertile grain ; 
And laughing Plenty crowned with 

sheaves, 
With purple grapes, and spreading 

leaves, 
In rich profusion pours around, 
Her flowing treasures on the ground. 
Oh ! mark the great, the liberal hand, 
That scatters blessings o'er the 

land ; 
And to the God of Nature raise 
The grateful song, the hymn of 

praise. 

The infant corn in vernal hours, 
He nurtured with his gentle 

showers, 
And bade the summer clouds 

diffuse 
Their balmy store of genial 

dews. 
He marked the tender stem arise 
Till ripened by the glowing skies ; 
And now, matured, his work 

behold, 
The cheering harvest waves in 

gold. 
To Nature's God with joy we raise 
The grateful song, the hymn of praise. 

The valleys echo to the strains 
Of blooming maids and village swains ; 
To Him they tune the lay sincere. 
Whose bounty crowns the smiling year. 



The sounds from every woodland borne, 

The sighing winds that bend the corn. 

The yellow fields around proclaim 

His mighty, everlasting name. 

To Nature's God united raise 

The grateful song, the lij^mn of praise. 



A SONG FOR MERRY HARVEST. 



Bring forth the harp, and let us sweep 
its fullest, loudest string; 




The bee below, the bird above, are 

teaching us to sing 
A song for merry harvest ; and the 

one who will not bear 
His grateful part, partakes a boon he 

ill deserves to share. 



IXDIAX SUMMER. 



503 



The grasshopper is pouring forth his 

quick and trembHng notes ; 
The hxughter of the gleaner's child, 

the heart's own music, floats. 
Up ! up ! I say, a roundelay from every 

voice that lives 
Should welcome merry Harvest, and 

bless the hand that gives. 

The buoyant soul that loves the bowl 

may see the dark grapes shine ; 
And gems of melting ruby deck the 

ringlets of the vine ; 
Who prizes more the foaming ale, 

may gaze upon the plain ; 
And feast his eye with yellow hops 

and sheets of bearded grain. 

The kindly one whose bosom aches to 

see a dog unfed, 
May bend the knees in thanks to see 

the ample promised bread : 
Awake, then, all ! 'tis Nature's call ; 

and every voice that lives 
Shall welcome merry Harvest, and 

bless the hand that frives. 



INDIAN SUMMER. 

From gold to gray 

Our mild, sweet day 
Of Indian summer fades too soon ; 

But tenderly 

Above the sea 
Hangs, white and calm, the hunter's 
moon. 



In its pale fire, 

The village spire 
Shows like the zodiac's spectral lance ; 

The painted walls 

"Whereon it falls 
Transfigured stand in marble trance ! 

John Gkeenleaf Whittiek. 



NO! 

No sun — no moon ! 
No morn — no noon — 

No da-\vii — no dust — no proper time of 
day- 
No sky — no earthly view — 
No distance looking blue — 

No road — no street — no "t'other side 
the way" — 
No end to any Eow — 
No indications wdierethe Crescents 

go- 
No top to any steeple — 

No recognitions of familiar people — 
No courtesies for showing 'em — 
No knowing 'em ! 

No travelling at all — no locomotion. 

No inkling of the way — no notion — ' 
"No go" — by land or ocean — 
No mail — no post — 
No news from any foreign coast — 

No park — no ring — no afternoon gen- 
tility- 
No company — no nobility — 

No warmth, no cheerfulness, no 
healthful ease, 



504 



nature's voice. 



No comfortable feel in any mem- 
ber — 
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no 
bees, 

No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no 

birds, 

November ! 

Thomas Hood. 



WINTER SONG. 

Summer joys are o'er; 

Flowerets bloom no more, 
Wintry winds are sweeping ; 
Through the snow-drifts peeping, 

Cheerful evergreen 

Earely now is seen. 

Now no plumed throng 
Charms the wood with song ; 

Ice-bound trees are glittering ; 

Merry snow-birds twittering. 
Fondly strive to cheer 
Scenes so cold and drear. 

Winter, still I see 
Many charms in thee,— 
Love thy chilly greeting, 
Snow-storms fiercely beating, 
And the dear delights 
Of the long, long nights. 

Ludwig Holty (German). Translation of 
Charles T. Brooks. 



AUTUMN. 



The autumn is old ; 

The sear leaves are flying ; 

He hath gathered up gold, 



And now he is dying; 
Old age, begin sighing ! 

The vintage is ripe ; 
The harvest is heaping ; 
But some that have sowed 
Have no riches for reaping : — 
Poor wretch, fall a-weeping ! 

The year's in the wane ; 
There is nothing adorning ; 
The night has no eve. 
And the day has no morning; 
Cold winter gives warning. 

The rivers run chill ; 
The red sun is sinking ; 
And I am grown old. 
And life is fast shrinking ; 
Here's enow for sad thinking ! 

Thomas Hood. 



OLD WINTER IS COMING. 



Old Winter is coming ; alack, alack ! 

How icy and cold is he ! 
He's wrapped to his heels in a snowy- 
white sack. 
The trees he has laden till ready to 

crack ; 
He whistles his trills with a wonderful 
knack, 
For he comes from a cold countree. 

A funny old fellow is Winter, I trow, 

A merry old fellow for glee ; 
He paints all the noses a beautiful 
hue. 



OLD WINTER COME AGAIN. 



505 



He counts all our fingers, and pinches 

them too ; 
Our toes he gets hold of through stock- 

mg and shoe, 
For a funny old fellow is he. 

Old Winter is blowing his gusts 

along 
And merrily shaking the tree ; 
From morning till night he will sing 

us his song. 
Now moaning and short, now boldly 

and long ; 
His voice it is loud, for his lungs are 

so strong, 
And a merry old fellow is hS. 

Old winter's a rough old chap to 
some 
As rough as ever you'll see. 
"I wither the flowers whenever I come, 
I quiet the brook that went laughing 

along, 
I drive all the birds off to find a new 
home; 
I'm as rough as rough can be." 

A cunning old fellow is Winter, they 
say— 
A cunning old fellow is he ; 
He peeps in the crevices day by day 
To see how we're passing our time 

away, 
And mark all our doings from sober 
to gay ; 
I'm afraid he is peeping at me ! 



OLD WINTER COME AGAIN. 

I love old blustering winter, 

Though loud its winds may blow ; 

I love to chat around the fire, 
Or frolic in the snow. 

Upon the ice, for pastime. 

Early I slide and late ; 
And when the ponds are frozen. 

How merrily I skate ! 

I think cold weather is so nice. 
It brings such games upon the ice — 
Skating, sliding, frolic, fun ; 
Winter time, make haste and come ! 




THE RAIN, WIND AND SNOW. 

Eain ! rain ! April rain ! 
Bring the flowers back again ; 
Yellow cowslip and violet blue, 
Buttercups and daisies too. 
Rain ! rain ! April rain ! 
Bring the flowers back again. 

Wind ! wind ! autumn wind ! 

He the leafless trees has thinned ; 



so6 



nature's voice. 



Loudly doth he roar and shout ; 
Bar the door and keep him out. 
Wind ! wind ! autumn wind ! 
He the leafless trees has thinned. 

Snow ! snow ! pure, white snow ! 
O'er the fields thy covering strow ; 
Cover up the seed so w'arm, 
Through the winter safe from harm. 
Snow ! snow ! pure, white snow ! 
O'er the fields thy covering strow. 

Eain ! wind ! snow ! all three, 

Each in turn shall welcome he ; 

Each and all in turn are sent 

On the earth with good intent. 

Eain, wind, snow, all three, 

Each in turn shall welcome he. 

Rhyme and Reason. 



NATURE'S DIAMONDS. 

A million little diamonds 

Twinkle on the trees, 
And all the little maidens said, 

"A jewel, if you please !" 
But while they held their hands out- 
stretched. 

To catch the diamonds gay, 
A million little sunbeams came 

And stole them all away. 



THE RAINBOW. 

My heart leaps up when I behold 

A rainbow in the sky ; 
So was it when my life began. 



So is it now I am a man ; 

So be it when I shall grow old. 

Or let me die ! 
The Child is father of the man ; 
And I could wish my days to be 
Bound each to each by natural piety. 

William Wokdswokth. 



THE RAINBOW. 

The rainbow, how glorious it is in the 
sky! 

And yet its bright colors are soft to 
the eye ; 

There the violet, and bhie, and 
bright yellow are seen, 

And orange, and red, and such beau- 
tiful green. 

Oh, I wonder what paint.s the bright 

bow in the sky ! 
See it spreads out so wide, and it 

arches so high ; 
But now at one end 'tis beginning to 

fade. 
And now nothing is seen but a cloud's 

misty shade. 

'Tis God who thus paints the fair 

heavenly bow, 
And sets it on high, His great mercy 

to show; 
He bids men look on it, and call then 

to mind 
His promise once graciously made to 

mankind. 



THE FROST. 



507 



The sea it may swell and the clouds 


Then he flew to the mountain, and 


roll on high, 


powdered its crest ; 


But God rules the sea and the wild. 


He lit on the trees and their boughs 


stormy sky ; 


he dressed 


And ever again shall the sea its 


In diamond beads ; and over the 


bounds know. 


breast 


Nor o'er the dry land in a wide del- 


Of the quivering lake he spread 


uge flow. 


A coat of mail that it need not fear 


Then, when in the sky is the wide 


The downward point of many a 
spear 


spanning how. 
It shall teach me God's goodness and 


That he hung on its margin far and 
near, 


mercy to know ; 
And that glorious God it shall teach 


"Where a rock could rear its head. 


me to love 




"Who his mercy thus paints in such 


THE SNOWFALL. 


colors above. 


Old Winter comes forth in his robe 


Clayton. 


of white, 




He sends the sweet flowers far out of 


THE FROST. 


sight. 
He robs the trees of their green 


The frost looked forth one still, clear 
night. 


leaves quite. 
And freezes the pond and the river ; 


And whispered, "Now I shall be out 


He has spoiled the butterfly's pretty 


of sight ; 


vest. 


So through the valley and over the 


And ordered the birds not to build 


height 


their nest. 


In silence I'll take my way ; 


And banished the frog to a four 


I will not go on like that blustering 


month's rest. 


train. 


And makes all the children shiver. 


The wind and the snow, the hail and 




the rain. 


Yet he does some good with his icy 


"Who make so much bustle and noise 


tread, 


in vain. 


For he keeps the corn-seeds warm in 


But I'll be as busy as they." 


their bed ; 



5o8 



NATURE vS VOICE. 




He dries up the damp wliich the rain 
has spread, 
And renders the air more healthy ; 

He taught the boys to slide, and he 

flung 
Piich Christmas gifts o'er the old and 

young, 
And when cries for food from the 

poor were wrung. 
He oj^enedthe purse of the weahhy. 
We hke the Spring with its fine, fresh 

air; 



We hke the Summer with flowers so fair 
We hke the fruits we in Autumn 
share, 
And we hke, too, old Winter's greet- 
ing; 

His touch is cold, but his heart is 

warm ; 
So, though he brings to us snow and 

storm, 
We look with a smile on his well- 

kno^^^l form. 
And ours is a gladsome meeting. 



THE OCEAN. 



509 



THE OCEAN. 



Eoll on, thou deep and dark blue 

ocean, — roll ! 
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee 

in vain ; 
Man marks the earth with ruin, — his 

control 
Stops with the shore ; — upon the 

watery plain 
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth 

remain 
A shadow of man's ravage save his 

own, 
When, for a moment, like a drop of 

rain, 
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling 

groan. 
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, 

and unknown. 

His steps are not upon thy paths, — thy 

fields 
Are not a spoil for him, — thou dost 

arise 
And shake him from thee; the vile 

strength he wields 
For eai-th's destruction thou dost all 

desjDise, 
Spurning him from thy bosom to the 

skies. 
And send'st him, shrivering in thy 

playful spray 
And howling, to his gods, where haply 

lies 



His petty hope in some near port or 

bay, 
And dashest him again to earth ; — 

there let him lay. 

The armaments which thunderstrike 

the walls 
Of rock-built cities, bidding nations 

quake 
And monarchs tremble in their capi- 
tals. 
The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs 

make 
Their clay creator the vain title take 
Of lord of thee and arbiter of w'ar, — 
These are thy toys, and, as the snowy 

flake. 
They melt into thy j'east of v:aves, 

which mar 
Alike the Armada's pride or spoils of 

Trafalgar. 

Thy shores are empires, changed in 

all save thee ; 
Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what 

are they? 
Thy waters washed them power while 

they were free. 
And many a tyrant since ; their shores 

obey 
The stranger, slave, or savage ; their 

decay 
Has dried up realms to deserts : not 

so thou ; 
Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' 

play, 



5^o 



nature's voice. 



Time writes no wrinkles on thine azure 

brow ; 
Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou 

rollest now. 

Thou glorious mirror, where the Al- 
mighty's form 
Glasses itself in tempests; in all 

time. 
Calm or convulsed, — in breeze, or gale, 

or storm. 
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime 
Dark-heaving ; boundless, endless, and 

sublime, 
The image of Eternity, — the throne 
Of the Invisible ! even from out thy 

slime 
The monsters of the deep are made ; 

each zone 
Obeys thee ; thou goest forth, dread, 

fathomless, alone. 

And I have loved thee. Ocean ! and 

my joy 
Of youthful sports was on thy breast 

to be 
Borne, like thy bubbles, onward ; from 

a boy 
I wantoned with thy breakers, — they 

to me 
Were a delight ; and if the freshening 

sea 
Made them a terror, 'twas a pleasing 

fear ; 
For I was, as it were, a child of 

thee. 



And trusted to thy billows far and 

near, 
And laid my hand upon thy mane, — as 

I do here. 

LOKD BYEON. 



THE SEA. 



Beautiful, sublime, and glorious; 

Mild, majestic, foaming, free, — 
Over time itself victorious, 

Image of eternity ! 

Sun and moon and stars shine o'er 
thee, 

See thy surface ebb and flow, 
Yet attempt not to explore thee 

In thy soundless depths below. 

Whether morning's splendors steep 
thee 

With the rainbow's glowing grace, 
Tempests rouse, or navies sweep thee, 

'Tis but for a moment's space. 

Earth, — her valleys and her moun- 
tains. 

Mortal man's behests obey ; 
The unfathomable fountains 

Scoff his search and scorn his sway. 

Such art thou, stupendous ocean ! 

But, if overwhelmed by thee. 
Can we think, without emotion. 

What must thy Creator be ? 

Bernard Barton. 



STOP, STOP, PRETTY WATER. 



II 



STOP, STOP, PRETTY WATER. 



"Stop, stop, pretty water !" 

Said Mary one day., 
To a frolicsome brook 

That was running away ; 

"You run on so fast ! 

I wish you would stay ; 
My ]>oat and my flowers 

Y"ou will carry away, 

"But I will run after; 

Mother says that I may ; 
For I would know where 

You are running away." 

So Mary ran on 

But I have heard say 
That she never could find 

Where the brook ran away. 
Eliza Follen. 



THE WAVES ON THE SEA- 
SHORE. 



EoU on, roll on, you restless waves, 

That toss about and roar ; 
Why do you run all back again 

When you have reached the shore ? 
Eoll on, roll on, you noisy waves. 

Roll higher up the strand ; 
How is it that you cannot pass 

That line of yellow sand ? 

Make haste, or else the tide will turn ; 

Make haste, you noisy sea ; 
Eoll quite across the bank, and then 



Far on across the lea. 
"We must not dare," the waves reply: 

"That line of yellow sand 
Is laid along the shore to bound 

The waters and the land ; 

"And all should keep to time and place. 

And all should keep to rule — 
Both waves upon the sandy shore. 

And little boys at school. 
Thus freely on the sandy beach 

We dash and roll away ; 
WTiile you, when study-time is o'er. 

May come with -us and play." 

Aunt Effie's Rhymes. 



IS THE MOON MADE OF GREEN 
CHEESE ? 

"Say, papa, I want you to listen 
So lay down your newspaper 
please ; 
Sister Mary has just been a-saying 
That the moon is made out of 
green cheese. 

"I told her 'twould get awful mouldy ; 
And she said there's a man with a 
hoe 
Who lives there, and scrapes all the 
mould ofif; 
But I do not beheve it is so." 

Papa laughed a little at Jennie 

As he stroked down the curls on 
her head ; 



512 



nature'vS voice. 



"And why now, my dear little daugh- 


NOW THE SUN IS SINKING. 


ter, 




Don't you trust what your sister 


Now the sun is sinking 


has said ?" 


In the golden west ; 


^£T5„„.,,,„^ „rl,,, ^t ..^,-,.,c^ r.1,^ l-,^^TTro 


Birds and bees and children 



nothing 
Of the moon, for it's off very far ; 
There's not any green cheese about it ; 
Why, of course not — now is there, 

papa ?" 

"You must not ask me such 
hard questions." 
Then papa gave Jennie a 
kiss : 
"Now go and find out your- 
self Jennie, 
Then come and tell me 
how it is." 

Then Jennie went right to • 

her Bible, 
Where it tells how the world had 
its birth. 
And she read all about the creation, 
How God made the heavens and 
earth. 

And soon she ran laughing to jDapa, 
And her laughter ran all through 
the house — 
"Oh, papa, there's no green cheese in 
it. 
For the moon was made before 
cows." 

Nicholas Nichols. 




All have gone to rest ; 
And the merry streamlet, 

As it runs along, 
With a voice of sweetness 

Sings its evening song. 

Cowslip, daisy, violet, 
In their little beds. 
All among the grasses, 



OH, LOOK AT THE MOON. 



5^3 



Hide their heavy heads ; 
There they'll all, sweet darlings, ! 

Lie in happy dreams 
Till the rosy morning 

Wakes them with its beams. 



OH, LOOK AT THE MOON! 

Oh, look at the moon ! 

She is shining up there ; 
Oh, mother, she looks 

Like a lamp in the air ! 




Last week she was smaller. 
And shaped like a bow ; 

But now she's grown bigger. 
And round as an 0. 



Pretty moon, j)retty moon. 
How you shine on the door. 

And make it all bright 
On my nursery floor ' 

You shine on my playthings, 
And show me their place ; 

And I love to look up 

At your pretty bright face. 

And there is a star 

Close by you, and may be 
That small twinkling star 

Is your little baby. 

Eliza Follen. 

SONG OF THE BROOK. 



I come from haunts of coot and hern : 

I make a sudden sally. 
And sparkle out among the fern, 

To bicker down a valley. 

By thirty hills I hurry down, 
Or slip between the ridges ; 

By twenty thorps, a little town, 
And half a hundred l)ridges. 

Till last by Philip's farm I flow 
To join the brimming river; 

For men may come and men may go, 
But I go on forever. 

I chatter over stony ways, 
In little sharps and trebles ; 

I bubble into eddying bays, 
I babble on the pebbles. 



514 



nature's voice. 



With many a curve my banks I fret 
By many a field and fallow, 

And many a fairy foreland set 
With willow-weed and mallow. 

I chatter, chatter, as I flow 
To join the brimming river; 

For men may come and men may go. 
But I go on forever. 

I wind about, and in and out. 
With here a blossom sailing, 

And here and there a lusty trout, 
And here and there a grayling. 

And here and there a foamy flake 

Upon me, as I travel, 
With many a silvery waterbreak 

Above the golden gravel ; 




And draw them all along, and flow 
To join the brimming river; 

For men may come and men may go. 
But I go on forever. 



I steal by lawns and grassy plots ; 

I slide by hazel covers ; 
I move the sweet forget-me-nots 

That grow for happy lovers. 

I slij), I slide, I gloom, I glance. 
Among my skimming sw'allows, 

I make the netted sunbeams dance 
Against my sandy shallows. 



~'^-»s>7 - ^<:^- 




I murmur under moon and stars 

In brambly wildernesses ; 
I linger by my shingly bars ; 

I loiter round my cresses ; 

And out again I curve and flow 
To join the brimming river ; 

For men may come and men may go. 
But I go on forever, 

Alfeeh Tennyson. 



THE BROOK. 

A little brook went surging 
.O'er golden sands along, 

And as I listened to it 
It whispered in its song, 

"Beneath the steady mountain," 
I thought I heard it say, 




THE BKOOK. 

515 



5i6 



nature's voice. 



"My crystal waters started 
Upon their winding way. 

"I fondly hoped that flowers 
Would bloom upon each side, 

And sunshine always cheer me 
Wherever I might glide. 

"Through grassy meadows flowing, 

And birds on every tree, 
I hoped that each hour passing 

Would pleasure bring to me. 

"But hopes once bright have perished ; 

But rarely have I seen 
The lovely birds and flowers. 

The meadows soft and green. 

"Through barren heaths and lonely 

My way has often led, 
Where golden sunshine never 

Has cheered my gloomy bed. 

"O'er rocks I've had to travel, 

O'er precipices steep 
I onward have been driven, 

And madly made to leap. 

"The winds have sighed around me. 
The clouds in darkness hung. 

And sadness has been mingled 
With music I have sung. 

"But still, wherever running, 
My life has not been vain ; 

I've helped to grow the forests 
That wave across the plain, 

"The forests build the cities. 
And ships that sail the sea. 



And the mighty forests gather 
Their nourishment from me. 

"So onward! onward ever! 

With singing I will go, 
However dark and dreary 

The scenes through which I flow." 

A higher law than pleasure 
Should guide me in my way ; 

Thus 'mid the rocks and forests 
Comes music every day. 



CHARLEY AND HIS FATHER. 

The birds are flown away, 

The flowers are dead and gone, 

The clouds look cold and gray 
x\round the setting sun. 

The trees with solemn sighs 
Their naked branches swing ; 

The winter winds arise. 
And mournfully they sing. 

Upon his father's knee 

Was Charley's happy place, 

And very thoughtfully 

He looked up in his face ; 

And these his simple words : 
"Father, how cold it blows ! 

What 'comes of all the birds 
Amidst the storms and snows'?" 

"They fly far, far away 

From storms, and snows, and rain ; 
But, Charley dear, next May 

They'll all come back again." 



THE RIVER. 



517 



"And will my flowers come too ?" 

The little fellow said, 
"And all be bright and new 

That now looks cold and dead?" 

"Oh yes, dear ; in the spring 
The flowers will all revive. 

The birds return and sing, 
And all be made alive." 

"Who shows the birds the way. 
Father, that they must go. 

And brings them baek in May, 
When there is no more snow? 



"Father, when people die. 

Will they come back in May ?" 

Tears were in Charley's eye : 
"Will they, dear father, say ?" 

"No, they will never come ; 

We go to them, my boy, 
There in our heavenly home 

To meet in endless joy." 

Upon his father's knee 

Still Charley kept his placo, 

And very thoughtfully 
He looked up in his face. 




"And when no flower is seen 
Upon the hill and plain, 

Who'll make it all so green. 
And bring the flowers again ?'" 

"My son, there is a Power 
That none of us can see. 

Takes care of every flower. 
Gives life to every tree. 

"He, through the pathless air, 
Shows little birds their way ; 

And we, too, are His care — 
He guards us day by day." 



THE RIVER. 



grandly flowing River ! 

silver-gliding River ! 

Thy springing willows shiver 

In the sunset as of old ; 
They shiver in the silence 
Of the willow-whitened islands, 
While the sun-bars and the sand-bars 

Fill air and wave with gold. 

gray, oblivious River ! 
sunset-kindled River ! 



;i8 



nature's voice. 



Do you remember ever 

The eyes and skies so blue 
On a summer day that shone here, 
When we were all alone here, 
And the blue eyes were too wise 
To speak the love they knew? 

stern, impassive Kiver ! 
still unanswering River ! 
The shivering willows quiver 

As the night-winds moan and rave. 
From the past a voice is calling, 
From Heaven a star is falling. 
And dew swells in the bluebells 

Above the hillside grave. 

John Hay. 



BOY'S SONG. 

Where the pools are bright and deep. 
Where the gray trout lies asleej), 
Up the river and over the lea. 
That's the way for Billy and me. 



Where the blackbird sings the latest. 
Where the hawthorn blooms the sweet- 
est, 
Where the nestlings chirp and flee. 
That's the way for Billy and me. 

Where the hazel-bank is steepest, 
Where the shadow falls the deepest. 
Where the clustering nuts fall 

free. 
That's the way for Billy and me. 

Why the boys should drive away 
Little sweet maidens from the play, 
Or love to banter and fight so well, 
That's the thing I never could tell. 

But this I know, I love to play 
Through the meadow, among the 

hay. 
Up the water and over the lea ; 
That's the way for Billy and me. 

James Ho(;g. 



-^^ 



Religion 



AND 



Anniversaries. 



RELiaiOE AND AMIYERSARIES. 



WHAT GOD SEES. 



When the winter snow-flakes fall, 
God in heaven can count them all ; 
When the stars are shining hhght, 
Out upon a frosty night, 
God can tell them all the same, 
God can give each star its name. 

God in heaven can also see 
Children in their play agree, 
Never rude, or cross, or wild, 
Always kind, forbearing, mild. 
Angels from their homes of light 
Gladly look on such a sight. 



THE EYES OF THE ANGELS. 

A little girl was disappointed when her mother 
told her what the stars were. She said, "I thought 
they were the eyes of the angels." 

"Mother, what are those little things 
That twinkle from the skies ?" 

"The stars, my child."— I thought, 
mother. 
They were the angels' eyes. 

"They look down on me so like yours. 

As beautiful and mild, 
When by my crib you used to sit, 

And watch your feverish child. 



"And, always, when I shut my eyes, 
And said my little prayers. 



\ 




^/ 






\. '>> 



I felt so safe, because I knew 
That they had opened theirs." 



George Washington Doane. 



JESUS SEES YOU. 



Little child, when you're at play 
Do you know that Jesus sees 
you ? 
He it is who made the day, 

Sunshine, birds, and flowers, to 
please you. 
Oh then thank Him much, and pray 
To be grateful every day. 



521 



522 



RELIGION AND ANNIVERSARIES. 



Little cliild, when you're afraid, 
Do you know that Christ is by you ? 

Seek His care then ! He has said, 
*'Ask, and I will not deny you." 

And He never fails to hear ; 

He will keep you — do not fear. 

Little child, when you are bad. 

Do you think that Jesus knows it ? 

Yes ! and oh, it makes him glad 
When you're sorry and disclose it. 

Oh, then, tell Him quick, and pray 
To grow better every day. 



PRAYER FOR A LITTLE CHILD. 

Gentle Jesus, meek and mild. 
Look upon a little child ; 
Pity my simplicity. 
Suffer me to come to Thee. 

Fain I would to Thee be brought ; 
Gracious God, forbid it not : 
In the kingdom of Thy grace 
Give a little child a place. 

Oh, supply my every want, 
Feed the young and tender plant ; 
Day and night my keeper be. 
Every moment watch o'er me. 



NEVER FORGET TO PRAY. 

Never, my child, forget to pray, 
Whate'er the business of the day. 
If happy dreams have blessed thy 
sleep. 



If startling fears have made thee 

weep. 
With holy thoughts begin the day. 
And ne'er my child, forget to pray. 

The time will come when thou wilt 

miss 
A father's and a mother's kiss. 
And then my child, perchance thou'lt 

see 
Some who in prayer ne'er bend the 

knee ; 
From such examples turn away, 
And ne'er, my child forget to pray. 



CHILD'S MORNING PRAYER. 

Tune— ''Home Sweet Home." 

Our Father in Heaven 

We hallow thy name ! 
May thy Kingdom holy 

On earth be the same. 

Oh ! give to us daily. 

Our portion of bread, 
It is from Thy bounty 

That all must be fed. 

Forgive our transgressions 

And teach us to know 
That humble compassion 

Which pardons each foe ; 

Keep us from temptation. 
From w^eakness and sin. 

And Thine be the glory. 
Forever — Amen. 

Sarah J. Hale. 



EVENING PRAYER FOR A YOUNG CHILD. 



523 



EVENING PRAYER FOR A YOUNG 
CHILD. 

Now I lay me down to sleep ; 
1 pray the Lord my soul to keep ; 
If I should die before I wake, 
I pray the Lord mj' soul to take ; 
And this I beg for Jesus' sake. 



THE UNFINISHED PRAYER. 

'Now I lay" — repeat it, darling — 
"Lay me," lisped the tiny lips 




"Down to sleep;" "To sleep," she 
murmured, 

And the curly head bent low ; 
"I pray the Lord" I gently added ; 

"You can say it all, I know." 

"Pray the Lord" — the sound came 

faintly. 
Fainter still, "My soul to keep ;" 
Then the tired head fairly nodded, 
And the child was fast sleep. 

But the dewy eyes half opened 

When I clasped her to my breast, 

And the dear voice softly whispered, 
"Mamma, God knows all the rest." 



A CHILD'S EVENING PRAYER. 



Of my daughter, kneeling, bending 
O'er her folded finger-tips. 



The following simple and beautiful lines were 
composed Ijy the great poet named below for the 
use of his little girl. 

Ere on my bed my limbs I lay, 

God grant me grace my prayers to 

say. 
God, preserve my mother dear 
In strength and health for many a 

year ; 
And oh ! preserve my father too. 
And may I pay him reverence due — 
And may I my best thoughts employ 
To be my parents' hope and joy. 

And oh ! preserve my brothers both 
From evil doings and from sloth ; 
And may we always love each other, 
Our friends, our father and our 
mother. 



524 



RELIGION AND ANNIVERSARIES. 



Anil still, Lord, to me impart 
All innocent and grateful heart, 
That after my last sleep I may 
Awake to Thy eternal day ! Amen. 

Samuel Taylor Coleridge. 



GOOD NIGHT. 



"Good-night, dear mamma," a little 

girl said, 
"I'm going to sleep in my trmidle- 

bed; 




Good-night, dear papa, little brother 

and sis !" 
And to each one the innocent gave a 

sweet kiss. 



"Good-night, little darling," her fond 

mother said; 
"But remember, before you lie down 

in your bed. 
With a heart full of love, and a tone 

soft and mild, 
To breathe a short prayer to Heaven, 

dear child." 
"Oh yes, dear mother!" said the 

child, with a nod, 
"I love, oh, I love to say good-night 
to God !" 

Z. Kneeling down, "My 
father in heaven,'' 
she said, 
"I thank Thee for giv- 
ing me this nice lit- 
tle bed ; 
For though mamma 
told me she bought 
it for me. 
She says that every- 
thing good comes 
from Thee ; 
I thank Thee for keep- 
ing me safe through 
the day ; 
I thank Thee for 
teaching me, too, 
how to pray ;" 
Then bending her 
sweet little head 
with a nod, 
"Good-night, my dear Father, my 

Maker, and God ; 
Should I never again on earth open 
mine eyes. 



THE TEN COMMANDMENTS. 



525 



"I pray Thee to give me a home in 
the skies !" 

'Twas an exquisitive sight as she 

meekly knelt there, 
With her eyes raised to heaven, her 

hands clasped in prayer; 
And I thought of the time when the 

Saviour, in love, 
Said, "Of such is the kingdom of 

heaven above ;" 
And I inwardly prayed that my own 

heart the while 
Might be cleansed of its bitterness, 

freed from its guile. 
Then she crept into bed that beauti- 
ful child, 
And was soon lost in slumber, so 

calm and so mild 
That we listened in vain for the sound 

of her breath 
As she lay in the arms of the emblem 

of death. 



THE TEN COMMANDMENTS. 



EXOD. CHAP. XX. 

1. Thou shalt have no more gods but 
me; 

2. Before no idol bow thy knee. 

3. Take not the name of God in vain. 

4. Nor dare the Sabbath-day profane. 

5. Give both thy parents honor due. 

6. Take heed that thou no murder do. 

7. Abstain from words and deeds un- 

clean. 



8. Nor steal, though thou art poor 

and mean, 

9. Nor make a wilful lie, nor love it. 
10. What is thy neighbor's, do not 

covet. 



SOME BIBLE "B'S." 

"B strong in the Lord." 

"B gentle unto all men." 

'=B quiet and do your own business." 

"B glad and rejoice, for the Lord 
will do great things." 

"B kind one to another." 

"B merciful, even as your Father 
also is merciful." 

"B contented with such things as 
you have." 

"B wise ; B instructed." 

"B sure your sin will find you 
out." 

"B sober." "Bdiligent." "Bready." 

"B perfect." "B steadfast." 

"B faithful unto death, and I will 
give thee a crown of life. 



A CHILD'S THOUGHT OF GOD. 



They say that God lives very high ; 

But if you look above the pines 

You cannot see our God ; and why ? 

And if you dig do^vn in the mines. 
You never see Him in the gold, 
Though from Him all that's glory 
shines. 



526 



RELIGION AND ANNIVERSARIES. 



God is so good, He wears a fold 

Of heaven and earth across His face, 
Like secrets kept for love untold. 

But still I feel that His embrace 
Slides down by thrills through all 

things made, 
Through sight and sound of every 

place ; 

As if my tender mother laid 

On my shut lips her kisses' pres- 
sure, 
Half waking me at night, and said, 

"Who kissed you through the dark, 

dear guesser ?" 

Elizabeth Bareett Browning. 



NEW YEAR'S COMING. 



Tune— 'Webb." 

boys ! the New Year's coming. 

The time when folks begin 
To make a cleaner record 

By leaving off each sin. 
We'd better all get ready, 

And make a brand-new start 
To drive out every error 

And blemish from each heart. 

Let's save our spending-money 

For books and useful things, 
Not waste it in such foolish trash 

As balls, and toys, and rings. 
Economy is learned in youth ; 

The thoughts we have to-day 
Take root and strengthen with our 
strength. 

And follow all the way. 



No one of'us, I'm very sure. 
Would touch a drop of drink. 

Not one would touch a cigarette — 
We're all right there, I think. 

But we will strengthen others, 
And lead them in the right ; 

And now clasp hands, my boys, upon 
Eesolves we've made to-night. 

Ella Wheelek. 



ANOTHER YEAR IS DAWNING. 



Another year is dawning ! 

Dear Master, let it be, 
In working or in waiting, 

Anotlier year wdth Thee. 
Another year in leaning 

Upon Thy loving breast. 
Of ever-deepening trustfulness, 

Of quiet, happy rest. 

Another year of mercies, 

Of faithfulness and grace ; 
Another year of gladness, 

In the shining of Thy face. 
Another year of progress. 

Another year of praise ; 
Another year of proving 

Thy presence "all the days." 

Another year of service. 

Of witness for Thy love ; 
Another year of training 

For holier works above. 
Another year is dawning ! 

Dear Master, let it be 

On earth, or else in heaven. 

Another year for thee ! 

Fkances R. Havergal. 



CHRISTMAS EVE. 



52; 



CHRISTMAS EVE. 



Shine, gentle stars, to-night, 
With pure and tender Hght ! 
And Avintry winds, he low : 
Let softer breezes blow ! 
And moonbeams trembling on the air. 
Glitter with sheen most wondrous fair. 
For this is Christmas eve. 

Blaze, faggots, on the hearth ; 

And children, shout with mirth ; 

And let the song go round 

With merry, joyful sound; 
While gentle hands the gifts disj)lay. 
Which wait the dawn of Christmas day, 

For this is Christmas eve. 

Eing, ring, ye silver bells. 
Till all the deepest wells 
Of melody break forth 
And roll from South to North ; 
Eing till each grand cathedral aisle 
Eesounds with sweetest chimes the 
while. 
For this is Christmas eve. 

Bow down, our hearts in love 
To Him who from above 
Found to our world His way, 
And in a manger lay ; 
While angels sang of peace on earth, 
To crown with joy His hours of birth. 
Aye ! this is Christmas eve. 

Forget ye not the poor, 
Who stand outside your door, 
Or shiver at the gate 



Where no warm welcomes wait 
But, like the Saviour, fly with speed 
To scatter gifts where there is need. 

Aye ! this is Christmas eve. 

Emily Putnam Williams. 



BENNY. 



I had told him Christmas morning. 

As he sat upon my knee, 
Holding fast his little stockings. 

Stuffed as full as full could be. 
And attentive, listening to me, 

With a face demure and mild, 
That old Santa Claus, who filled them. 

Did not love a naughty child. 

"But we'll be good, won't we, Moder?" 

And from off my lap he slid. 
Digging deep among the goodies 

In his crimson stockings hid, 
While I turned me to my table. 

Where a tempting goblet stood, • 
With a dainty drink brimmed over, 

Sent me by a neighbor good. 

But the kitten, there before me. 

With his white paw, nothing loth. 
Sat by way of entertainment, 

Slapping off the shining froth ; 
And in not the gentlest humor 

At the loss of such a treat, 
I confess, I rather rudely 

Thrust him out into the street. 

Then how Benny's blue eyes kindled ! 

Gathering up the precious store. 
He had busily been pouring 



•528 



RELIGION AND ANNIVERSARIES. 



In his tiny pinafore. 
With a generous look that shamed me, 

Sprang he from the carpet bright, 
Showing by his mein indignant 

All a baby's sense of right. 

"Comeback, Harney," called he loudly. 

As he held his apron white, 
"You sail have my candy wabbit !" 

But the door was fastened tight ; 
So he stood, abashed and silent, 

In the centre of the floor. 
With defeated look alternate 

Bent on me and on the door. 

Then, as by some sudden impulse. 

Quickly ran he to the fire, 
And while eagerly his bright eyes 

Watched the flames go high and 
higher. 
In a brave, clear key, he shouted, 

Like some lordly little elf, 
"Santa Kaus, come down de chimney, 

Make my moder 'have herself !" 

"I will be a good girl, Benny," 

Said I, feeling the reproof ; 
And straightway recalled poor Harney 

Mewing on the gallery roof. 
Soon the anger was forgotten. 

Laughter chased away the frown. 
And they gambolled 'neath the live- 
oaks 

Till the dusky night came down. 

In my dim, fire-lighted chamber, 

Harney purred beneath my chair, 
And my play-worn boy beside me. 



Knelt to say his evening prayer : 
"God bess fader, God bess moder, 

God bess sister" — then a pause, 
And the sweet young lips devoutly 

Murmured — , "God bess Santa 
Kaus." 

He is sleeping ; brown and silken 

Lie the lashes, long and meek. 
Like caressing, clinging shadows 

On his plump and peachy cheek; 
And I bend above him weeping 

Thankful tears. Oh Undefiled ! 
For a w^oman's crown of glory, 

For the blessing of a child. 



HANGING THE STOCKINGS. 



Three little worsted stockings hang- 
ing all in a row. 

And I have patched two scarlet heels, 
and darned a crimson toe. 

Over the eyes of azure, over the eyes 
of brown. 

Seemed as though the eyelids could 
never be coaxed down. 

I sang for a good long hour before 
they were shut quite tight ; 

For to-morrow will be Christmas, and 
St. Nick comes to-night ; ' 

We laughed as we droi)ped the can- 
dies into heel and toe. 

For not one little stocking was miss- 
ing from the row. 



THE FIRST THANKSGIVING DAY, 1 62 2. 



529 



And when our work was ended, we 

stood a little apart, 
Silently praying the Father to soothe 

that mother's heart 
Who looks on her unworn stockings 

amid her falling tears. 
Whose darling is keeping Christmas 

in Christ's eternal years. 



THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 
DAY, 1622. 

"And now," said the governor, gaz- 
ing ahroad o'er neatly piled-up 
store 

Of the sheaves that dotted the clear- 
ings, and covered the meadows 
o'er, 

"'Tis meet that we render praise he- 
cause of this yield of grain ; 

'Tis meet that the Lord of the harvest 
be thanked for his sun and rain. 

"And therefore, I, William Bradford, 
(by the grace of God to-day,- 

And the franchise of this good peo- 
ple) governor of Plymouth, say — 

Through virtue of vested power — ye 
shall gather with one accord, 

And hold, in the month of November, 
thanksgiving unto the Lord. 

"He hath granted us peace and 
plenty, and the quiet we've 
sought 80 long ; 



He hath thwarted the wily savage, 

and kept him from doing us 

wrong ; 
And unto our feast the sachem shall 

be bidden, that he may know 
We worship his own Great Spirit who 

maketli the harvest grow. 

"So shoulder your matchlocks, mas- 
ters ; there is hunting of all de- 
grees ; 

And, fishermen, take your tackle, and 
scour for spoil the seas ; 

And maidens and dames of Plymouth, 
your delicate crafts employ 

To honor our first Thanksgiving, 
and make it a feast of joy ! 

"We fail of the fruits and dainties so 

close to our hand in Devon ; 
Ah ! they are the lightest losses we 

suffer for sake of Heaven ! 
But see in our open clearing, how 

golden the melons lie ; 
Enrich them with sweets and spices, 

and give us the pumpkin pie ! " 

So, bravely the preparations went on 

for the autumn feast ; 
The deer and the bear were slaughtered ; 

wild game from the greatest to 

least 
Was heaped in the colony cabins ; 

brown homebrew served for wine ; 
And the plum and the grape of the 

forest, for orange and peach and 

pine. 



530 



RELIGION AND ANNIVERSARIES. 



At length came the day appointed, 
the snow had begun to fall, 

But the clang from the meeting-house 
belfry rang merrily out for all, 

And summoned the folk of Plymouth, 
who hastened with glad accord 

To listen to Elder Brewster as he fer- 
vently thanked the Lord. 

In his seat sat Governor Bradford ; 
men, matrons and maidens fair ; 

Miles Standish and his soldiers, with 
corslet and sword were there ; 

And sobbing and tears and gladness 
had each in its turn the sway. 

For the grave of the sweet Rose Stand- 
ish o'ershadowed Thanksgiving 
day. 

And when Massasoit, the sachem, sat 

down with his hundred braves, 
And ate of the varied riches of garden 

and woods and waves, 
And looked on the granaried harvest — 

with a blow on his brawny chest, 
He muttered, "The good, Great Spirit 

loves his white children best ! " 

And then, as the feast was ended, 

with gravely official air, 
The governor drew his broad sword 

from out of its scabbard there. 
And smiting the trencher near him, 

he cried in a heroic way, 
"Hail, Pie of the pumpkin ! I dub 

thee Prince of Thanksgiving 

day!" 



CLUSTER OF EASTER LILIES. 

"I'll carry lilies," sweet Elsie said, 
Tossing the curls of her flaxen head, 
Lifting her eyes of winsomest blue, 
"I'll carry lilies, mamma, for you." 

The Easter-tide was children's day, 
And about the altar they held sway, 
With their pearly clusters of Easter 

bloom 
To herald the victory over the tomb. 

Sweet Elsie had heard the story old 
Of the angels bright and the stone 

that rolled 
Away at their bidding ; of the Christ 

who came 
And called the little ones all by name. 

And close she sat by her mother's feet. 
Holding her cluster of lilies sweet, 
While the minister prayed for the 

children dear. 
Calling each name, so soft and clear. 

As Elsie looked at the face so mild. 
With the innocent love of a little 

child, 
A sunbeam strayed to his snow-white 

hair. 
And left a golden radiance there. 

Pure was the brow, and light was the 
eye, 

As the summer cloudlets floating by ; 

And the voice with gathering sweet- 
ness fell, 

Like the far away tones of a silvery bell. A 




By Permission. 



A CLUSTEB OF EASTEB LILIES. 



531 



532 



RELIGION AND ANNIVERSARIES. 



A heavenly thought to Elsie came, 
As he called the children all by name : 
"Mamma, it is Jesus !" and the lilies 

fail- 
Shadowed the gold of her sunny hair. 

Oh, cluster of lilies, divinely sweet ! 

So fit at the altar place to meet ! 

The saint whose life was a prayer to 
God, 

The lilies that sprang from the dark- 
some sod. 

The child whose soul was a mirror 

bright, 
Where the angels wrote in lines of 

light. 
The dearest words to mortals given : 
"Of such, of such, is the Kingdom of 

Heaven ! '' 

Esther T. Housh. 



DECORATION DAY. 

Down in the evergreen valley of 

Peace, 
Waiting the hour when earth's war-' 

fare shall cease, 
W^aiting in silence, nor weary, nor 

worn, 
Eest the brave heroes our loyal hearts 

mourn. 

Come with bright garlands sweet- 
scented and rare. 

Cover these mounds while you whis- 
per a prayer 



For the dear friends w^ho know not 
where they lie 

Resting to-day 'neath the clear vault- 
ed sky ; 

Over these hearts once so fervent and 
true. 

Scatter sweet roses, and violets blue ; 

Never a flower for their graves was 
too fair. 

Twining them lovingl}' — drape them 
with care. 

When the first battle- call thrilled 

through the land, 
When every heart by the shock was 

unmanned ; 
All else forgotten, their country to 

save. 
Firmly they marched to the brink of 

the grave ; 
Heedless of danger, of shot and of 

shell ; 
Now they are sleeping where bravely 

they fell ; 
Sweet rest, sweet rest crowneth each 

martyred brow. 

Birds of the woodland, 3'our joyous 
notes raise. 

Singing your beautiful songs to their 
praise. 

Flag of the Nation they died to up- 
hold, 

Wave in their honor your every bright 
fold ! 

Stars of the firmament, shining on 
high. 



children's EASTER. 



533 



Bend to these heroes whose deeds 
cannot die ! 

Many the loved ones who mourn them 
to-day, 

Poor, childless mothers grown wrink- 
led and gray, 

Hearts that still listen their voices to 
hear, 

Eyes that have watched for them year 
after year. 

When we all meet at the judgment of 

souls. 
When the great scroll of God's record 

unrolls, 
Their's shall he written in letters of 

gold . 
High with the names of the heroes of 

old. 

Come with bright blossoms that grew 
in the wild- wood, 

Wreathe for them roses, sweet roses, 
and lilies. 

Fair lilies they loved in their child- 
hood ; 

Deck them with roses, with violets 
blue, 

Sure their reward, for Jehovah is true. 

Miss M. E. Seevoss. 



CHILDREN'S EASTER, 

Breaks the joyful Easter dawn, 
Clearer yet, and stronger ; 

Winter from the world has gone 
Death shall be no longer. 



Far away good angels drive 
Night and sin and sadness ; 

Earth awakes in smiles, alive 
With her dear Lord's gladness. 

Rousing them from dreary hours 

Under snowdrifts chilly. 
In His hand He brings the flowers, 

Brings the rose and lily. 
Every little buried bud 

Into life He raises ; 
Every wild flower of the wood 

Chants the dear Lord's praises. 

Open, happy buds of spring, 

For the sun has risen ! 
Through the sky sweet voices ring, 

Calling you from prison. 
Little children, dear, look up ! 

Towards His brightness pressing, 
Lift up every heart, a cup 

For the dear Lord's blessing ! 

IjUCY Lakcom. 



EASTER MORNING. 

Let joy bells be ringing! 
All nature upspringing. 

Feels new life through every 
vein; 
For Christ has arisen, 
Has broken death's prison. 

On earth He will evermore reign ! 

Come, children, bring showers 
Of loveliest flowers ! 



534 



RELIGION AND ANNIVERSARIES. 



No offering for Easter more sweet ; 
With grateful adoring, 
And humble imploring, 

Oh ! cast them at Jesus' dear feet ! 

Fanny E. Newbeeey. 



THE FIRST BIRTHDAY. 

One little year with its changeful 

hours, 
Blossoming meadows and wintry 

showers, 
Shadow and sun. 

Shadow and sun, and rain and snow ; 
Morning splendor and evening glow ; 
The flying minutes, — how fast they 
go!— 
And the little year is done. 
What has it brought to the baby, pray — 



The princess who holds our hearts in 
sway? 
A queenlier air, 

A merrier laugh from lips and eyes, 
A deeper frown of grave surprise, 
A hundred ways that prove her wise, 
And sweet as she is fair. 

Kiss her once for the year that is 

done, 
And once for the year that is just 
begun. 
And softly sing, — 
"The years that are coming so fast — 

so fast — 
Each brighter and happier be thajj 

the last ; 
And every hour that goes hurrying past; 
New gifts to our baby bring ! " 

Margaeet Johnsqw. 




Milton Bradley Cos 

Kindergarten Materials. 



A FULL LINE COMPRISINa, IN PART. 
FrcsbeCs Firsts Second^ Third Fourth^ Fifth and Sixth Gifts; 
Seventh Gift Parquetry and Tablets; Sticks for Stick Lay- 
ing^ Assorted Lengths and Colors; Nezv Dotted Draw- 
ing Pat>cr and Dotted Drawing Books; Embroidery 
Design Cards; Assorted Colored Papers for 
Folding^ Cutting^ Weaving and Interlacing; 
and a large list of articles that are used 
for ''''Busy Work'''' in Primary 
Schools. Also^ Kindergarten 
Tables^ Chairs atid Black- 
boards. Address^ 

™°'!^L™i''^^^' MILTOI BRADLEY CO. 

76 AND 77 Wabash Avenue, 

CHICAGO, ILL. Springfield, Mass. 



Kindergarten Books. 



Paradise of Childhood. B3' Edward Wiebe. lUustrated. Paper, .$1.50. Cloth. . .$2.00 
A Complete Guide to the Kindergarten Work. 

Songs, Game.s and Ehymes. By Mrs. W. N. Hailman. Paper 1.25 

Cloth 1.75 

Songs for Little Children. By Eleanor Smith. Paper 90 

" •' " Cloth 1.30 

A Kindergartener's Manual of Drawing. By N. Moore. Paper 50 

The Kindergarten and the School. By Four Active Workers 1.00 

Memoir of Froebel 1.25 

Keminiscences of Frosbel 1.50 

Kindergarten Culture in the Family and Kindergarten. By W. N. Hailman 75 

Primary Methods and Kindergarten Instruction. By W. N. Hidlman 75 

Froebel's Education of Man. Translated by W. N. Hailman 1.50 

The Kindergarten Guide. By Maria Kraus Boelte and John Kraus. Paper 2.00 

Cloth 2.75 

Mother Play and Nursery Songs 2.00 

Merry Songs and Games. By Clara Beeson Hubbard 2.00 

Kindergarten Chimes. By Kate Douglas Wiggin. Boards 1.00 

Cloth 1.50 

National Kindergarten Songs and Plays. By Louisa Pollock 50 

Conscious Motherhood. By Emma Marwedel 1.65 

The Child. By H. Kriege. Cloth 1.00 

Kindergarten and Child Culture. By Dr. Henry Barnard. Cloth 3.50 

Rhymes and Tales for the Kindergarten and Nursery. Collected by Alma L. 

Kriege. Cloth 1 .00 

Songs for Little Folks in the Home and in the School. By Crafts and Merrill 35 

Little Pilgrims Songs. By Crafts and Merrill 35 

135 Kindergarten Songs and Games. By Berry and Michaelis. Cloth 75 

Plays for the Kindergarten. By Henrietta Noa. Paper. 30 

The Little Diadem, or Little Songs for Little Singers. By Wm Tillinghast. Flex- 
ible Covers 25 

Calisthenic Songs. By Flora L. Parsons 35 

Cheerful Echoes. A New Collection. By Louise; Pollock 50 

™°"*ii"i'^^^^' MILTOI BRADLEY GO. 

76 AND 77 Wabash Avenue, ^ 

CHICAGO, ILL. Springfield, Mass. 













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